


Season 1, Episode 7: Shadows In The Banquet Hall

by Peaches and RAmen (Peachy00Keen)



Series: Star Trek: Babel [12]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek Online
Genre: Action/Adventure, Banter, Christmas Party, Complicated Relationships, Culture, Espionage, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hockey, Impersonation, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infiltration, Invasion, M/M, Mirror Universe, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, Party, Science, Science Fiction, Season Finale, Star Trek References, Star Trek: Babel, Two-Part, Wholesome, gala - Freeform, part one, takeover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy00Keen/pseuds/Peaches%20and%20RAmen
Summary: Captain Raj Murali and Lieutenant Jessica Barnes must face the knowledge that Babel is destined to fail and find out who on board the ship is not who they claim to be. Meanwhile, Commander O'Malley plans an end-of-year gala that is sure to be remembered for years to come, but not in the way she intended.
Series: Star Trek: Babel [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623328
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

“Damn it,” Jessica muttered into her steamed raktajino as she set the PADD in her hands aside. _Another lead, another dead end. It’s been six months, and I’m no better off than when I started._ She thought back to that first conversation in the ready room with the Captain when it all began, before they’d even left Mars.  
  
***  
  
 _“Patterson hand-picked this crew and this mission, and my gut tells me there’s something very wrong aboard_ Babel _. Given your history with the Admiral, I know I can trust you. What I don’t know is who else I can trust, and I need you to help me find out.”  
  
“What exactly did you have in mind, sir?” she asked. She didn’t know the man at all, and here he was bringing her into the fold of a clandestine investigation, potentially turning her against the very crew she was here to join.  
  
“Lieutenant,” he replied, “I want you to do your job as Chief of Security. Assume that someone on board this ship has less-than-pure motives and find out who it is. There’s something sinister in motion here, and it goes all the way up to the Admiral himself. Patterson designed this mission to fail, but I need to know how and why. This is a state of the art ship full of the best technology the Federation has to offer, deliberately undermanned with a crew lacking the experience one would expect for a ship of _Babel _’s size and specifications. We’ve officially been sent on a deep space assignment, where a shortage of crew and supplies could be seriously hazardous.”  
  
His last comment got her attention. “Officially, sir? What’s the real mission?”  
  
The Captain turned his chair to face his computer display and pulled up a report for her to read. “Tell me, Lieutenant. Are you familiar with the Federation starship _Dauntless _?”  
  
The name wasn’t familiar. “Should I be, sir?”  
  
“The _Dauntless _was an Excelsior-class starship launched almost a century ago. It served several tours of duty before going missing twenty years ago on a deep space assignment. Officially it was listed as destroyed, but in reality, it simply vanished, and Starfleet didn’t have the resources to send a ship to investigate. The Admiral who made that decision, and to whom the_ Dauntless _reported, was Elias Patterson. Six months ago, Starfleet intelligence received a signal from the_ Dauntless _. It lasted for four hours, and then went silent.”  
  
“In that case,” Jessica interrupted, “why the secrecy? Shouldn’t we be heading straight for the signal?”  
  
The Captain shook his head. “Admiral Patterson was very clear in his instructions. Under no circumstances am I to divulge any information about the _Dauntless _, or our mission to find it. When we do discover its location, we are to rendezvous with the ship and await further orders.”  
  
Jessica frowned. “I don’t understand, sir. If those are your orders, why are you telling me any of this?”  
  
Raj sat silently for a long time, and Jessica wondered if she’d pushed him too far. She was about to make an excuse to leave when he leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Lieutenant, I learned years ago not to trust the Admiral. He, and others like him, represent a movement within the Federation that goes against everything we stand for. The things he’s willing to do, willing to sacrifice, to achieve his own goals chill me to the bone. There was a time that I considered him to be my closest friend and mentor, but that time has passed. I have little doubt that he does not intend for us to return from this mission. He’ll have planted his own people within the crew, in positions where they can do the most damage when the time comes. If we want to turn the tables on the Admiral, we need to be ready to stop them when they strike, and that means knowing who they are. I want you to find them. Get close to them. And when you have proof, I want you to report directly to me, no matter what you find. If you have a problem with that assignment, tell me now, because the lives of everyone on this ship depend on your honesty.”  
  
Jessica swallowed her fear and replaced it with anger. This wasn’t the assignment she wanted, but if the Admiral wanted to play games with her career and toss her aside, it was an assignment she was about to make the best of.  
  
“I’m with you, sir.”_  
  
***  
  
Jessica took another sip of her caffeinated beverage and went over her notes for the fourth time that night. Here they were, six months after that fateful talk, and she still had nothing to show for it. Her list of suspects had started out with nearly the entire crew, and while confident that some were out of the question, she didn’t have anything to point her toward the culprits, whoever they might be.  
  
 _Shannon certainly has the most to gain from betraying the crew, and working for Patterson could explain her meteoric rise to a command position. She’s one move away from taking command of the ship at any time and there aren’t many people who would question her if she made it look convincing. Still, I’ve been inside her head, seen her memories, and even if we don’t get along all that well, I haven’t seen anything to indicate she’s not who she says she is.  
  
Naazt could certainly do some damage as the Chief Engineer, but I think he’s more interested in tinkering with the ship than disabling it. Still, if I were going to plant a saboteur on a Federation ship, Engineering would be the first place I’d look, and pairing an agent in that department with a Chief Engineer easily distracted by his own projects would work well. One of his officers like Johnson or Thriss could do the damage as well as he could and with less suspicion. Without a motive to go on, though, it’s hard to say with any certainty.  
  
Then there’s the rest of the senior staff. Anyone with a high enough security clearance would be able to disable key systems for a short time, and that might be all that’s needed. Doctor Dupont has the authority to remove someone from command at any time. Even Jeremy could..._  
  
She let the thought linger, and felt a crushing wave of guilt wash over her. Even considering him on her list of suspects felt like a betrayal, but it nagged at her over and over again. _It’s not a betrayal, it’s just doing my job_ , she thought.  
  
The other voice, the one that was her, but not her, pushed back. _Is it your job to spy on your fellow crew members? How would Jeremy feel about you if he knew you spent your nights invading the privacy of the crew? Tracking their movements, investigating motives, building a case against each and every one of the people who trust you to keep them safe? Would he forgive you? Would he still want you?_  
  
“Shut up!” she screamed, throwing the PADD across the room. It connected with the wall and broke with a loud snap. Jessica buried her head in her hands and pulled at her hair. She wanted to scream, to cry, and most of all, she wanted to break something. Leaving the cracked PADD on the carpet, she got to her feet and changed quickly into her workout clothes and set off for the gym. At this time of night, she hoped, there would be no witnesses if she lost her temper.


	2. Chapter 2

Shannon stepped into the turbolift and headed for the bridge. In the past several months at her new and unexpected post, she’d been forced to confront and come to terms with her discomfort in a command position. It had taken some time, and she was still far from what she’d consider “comfortable,” but progress was progress. Even two months prior, she would never have considered bothering the Captain with such a hefty request as the one she had in mind now, but at this point, she was confident that even the worst outcome would be a manageable one.  
  
She stepped out onto the bridge and nodded to the officer currently in command before heading toward the ready room. _I never thought this place could feel so much like home_ , she thought as she sounded the chime. The Captain called from within for her to enter and the door opened.  
  
Raj sat behind his desk staring intently at his computer screen. When Shannon entered, he looked up, flashed a polite smile, and turned off his computer.  
  
“Commander O’Malley. To what do I owe this visit?”  
  
“I have a personal request, sir,” she began as she entered the room and gestured to the visitor’s seat. “May I?”  
  
The Captain relaxed in his chair and gave her his full attention. “Commander, you know you don’t have to ask.”  
  
“Sir, I’d like to suggest an event to lift the spirits of the crew. After everything we’ve been through in recent months, I think some seasonal festivities would go a long way to smoothing everyone’s feathers and boosting morale.” She paused to give him a chance to interject. When he didn’t, she continued. “With the Earth calendar year drawing to a close, I’ve been thinking about what I might be doing if I were closer to home. This time of year was always exciting when I was growing up: Plenty of food and family time, and a lot of traditions, especially given my family’s close ties to local history and our personal interests. During my time on the _Darwin_ , I began to notice how other non-Earth cultures celebrated holidays throughout the year. Across the Alpha Quadrant, it would seem that many species share a fondness for late fall and winter festivities, whether it’s the Bajoran Peldor Festival, or the Klingon Day of Honor, or Vulcan Kal Rekk, or--”  
  
“ _Shannon_ ,” Raj interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.  
  
“Right... well, I’ve been thinking that a winter gala might be just the thing to lift everyone’s spirits and help them reset after being taken for the ride we’ve all had. It would also be a good opportunity for you and I to get to know the crew and for everyone to mingle with one another. I’ve spoken to Hob and his catering staff about what it would take to handle such a large event, and he’s confident they could pull it off without a hitch. _Babel_ ’s banquet hall has never been used for its intended purpose, and what better way to christen it than with a festive multicultural celebration?”  
  
“I see you’ve already moved forward with the planning, Commander,” Raj said with a grin.  
  
Shannon felt a twinge of panic and hurriedly defended her actions, which had been, now that she thought about it, somewhat premature. “I had assumed you would want a fleshed-out proposal as opposed to a half-baked idea, sir.”  
  
“And it certainly sounds like you have the proposal well in hand,” he replied. “And I agree, the crew could use something to lighten the mood, especially after last month’s incident. Work with Hob and anyone else you see fit to get everything together and let me know when you have a final plan. We’ll make the announcement later today, and then it’s your show to run.”  
  
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep you apprised of any major developments.” Shannon stood up and straightened her jacket. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in Ten Forward until my shift starts.”


	3. Chapter 3

“AARGH!” Renetta grunted, her scream echoing off the snow-covered mountains surrounding the frozen pond. The puck flew wide of the net, skittered across the ice, and buried itself in the snowbank on the shore. She pulled another puck out of the pile and wound up another shot. _THWACK!_ The stick connected with the frozen rubber, sending it flying into the crossbar, where it collided with a loud _ping!_ before ricocheting back at her. She caught it with her skate and lined it up for another shot.

It had been at least two hours since her shift had ended and her voyage into the frigid wilds of the holodeck version of her favorite haunt back home began. Over the course of those two hours, she’d gradually shed her winter layers, leaving her coat, hat, and scarf piled up near the shore. Overdressing was part of her warm-up routine, as far as she was concerned. Now, she stood there, overheating in just a sweater, hockey gloves, and some old jeans she refused to recycle despite their well-worn threads.

Her third swing sent the puck wide of the net again as her whiffed shot missed the rubber cylinder almost entirely. Too frustrated to try again, she skated off after it and set her mind to doing a couple of laps to cool her rising temper. It was almost impossible to come to the pond without thinking of David, and the correlation was beginning to drive her mad. For years, ice skating and pond hockey were the two forms of catharsis Renetta had been able to lean on no matter the circumstances. Now, she felt them slipping from her grasp, and she wasn’t sure how to stop it.

Renetta picked up speed, chucking the puck and her stick off in the direction of the net as she accelerated into the biting wind. The cold stung her eyes and filled her ears to the point of pain, but it was a familiar pain, and that was what she wanted. It had become a chore trying to discern what thoughts and behaviors were new and which ones had always been there. Distractions she’d never had to face before suddenly consumed her during everyday tasks. Studying turned into daydreaming, little bumps and scratches turned into snowballing thoughts about pain and appropriate responses. Everything was a mess compared to what she’d known for her entire life prior. Tears streamed down her cheeks, though she couldn’t tell if they were caused by her thoughts or the wind. The young woman circled back to her center ice shooting spot and wiped away the trails from her cheeks before picking up her stick again.

_This is my ice. My rules. My time._

With a deep breath to ground herself, Renetta hunkered down into her hockey stance, adjusted her grip, and sized up the empty net. _Pick a shot: Glove high, top left corner._

Before she could even put pressure on the stick, another puck sailed past her head and connected with the inside of the left post before burying itself in the back of the net. Renetta spun around, caught between anger and surprise, to find Thriss, the Andorian ensign in Engineering, standing almost double her distance from the net, steady on her own skates with a stick in hand. Renetta staggered in place as her balance faltered, her mind thoroughly distracted by what she was seeing.

“I hope you don’t mind me barging in,” Thriss called with a wave as she skated over. “I was trying to find you and couldn’t resist when I saw the ice.”

Renetta snapped out of her stupor and started shaking her head, her thoughts tumbling over one another trying to make it out of her mouth first. “Yeah, no, I don’t min-- You play _hockey_?”

Thriss shrugged. “On occasion. It’s pretty popular back on Andoria, and a lot of us learn to play at some point. I was never any good.” The tall blue figure came to a clean halt beside Renetta, showering the smaller woman’s feet with snow. Renetta frowned.

“‘Never any good’... Yeah, okay.” She turned sharply, suddenly minding the intrusion as she whiffed another shot. Thriss didn’t show any intentions of leaving.

“For a sport that never really took off on your planet, I’m surprised to see you playing.” The Andorian picked up a puck on the blade of her stick and tossed it up and down, flipping it in the air as she did. “It’s nice to know there’s someone else who shares the hobby.”

_Yeah… It is_ , Renetta thought, releasing the tension in her shoulders. Something about that sentiment resonated with her. Skating and hockey were two social passions she’d had to leave behind when she joined Starfleet. Now, when she needed that familiar comfort the most, it looked like she just might get it. Renetta popped the puck on its side and scooped it up, focusing on even breaths as she set off in motion, juggling the puck alongside her friend.

“It was popular on Earth for a while, though mostly at a local level,” Renetta corrected, swearing as she dropped the puck and had to start over again. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Do you ever wish you could have been there for those days?” Thriss finally fumbled a bounce and her puck clattered to the ice. The two of them stopped and the Andorian woman looked up. “Pass?”

“Sure,” Renetta said with a smile as she finally started to relax. “I wish it all the time. I’ve got a bunch of historic games saved in the holodeck files. The 1936 semifinals between the Red Wings and the Maroons, the 1975 New Year’s Eve game, the 1980 Winter Olympics, the 2018 Stanley Cup Final, and of course, the 2026 Winter Olympics. Some others, too, but those are the big ones.”

“I’d love to see the games sometime.” Thriss slid the puck across the ice and skated a few meters back. “I wonder how different it is from what we play on Andoria.”

“Well, it’s probably a lot slower.” Renetta lobbed the puck back across the ice.

“And probably less bloody, if I had to guess.” Thriss’ return pass went slightly wide. Renetta reached for it and missed, distracted by the comment.

“Less _bloody_?” she asked, disturbed as she caught up to the errant puck and returned it to sender. “Unless you’re looking at the early games pre-1990, yeah, probably.” Renetta settled back into position. “How bloody are we talking?”

“Usually, it’s pretty tame, but I’ve seen players lose fingers before. Depending on the league, penalties are sometimes determined by whichever team has the last player standing. Those are usually only for special event games, though. Too high-risk for the players.”

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same sport?” Renetta passed the puck back and forth to herself for a moment. “Because it almost sounded like the same sport until the fight-to-the-death part.”

Thriss tapped the stick on the ice and Renetta sent the puck back. “It’s not to the death. They just rough each other up until someone falls down or gets knocked down. As far as I know, there’s only ever been one death, and it was a _huge_ scandal.” Thriss tossed the puck at the net. “They canceled those games for the next couple of years because the board had to completely rewrite the rules.”

“That sounds terrifying.”

Thriss snorted. “Have you _met_ Andorians?”

The two skated toward the bench on the shore. Renetta picked up her discarded outerwear and redressed as they sat down for a rest. “What brought you to the holodeck in the first place?” Renetta asked, tucking her hair into her hat.

“Word on the ship is that Commander O’Malley is planning some big winter party for everyone onboard. I was curious if you were planning on going.” Thriss paused, hesitating before adding “and how you were doing with… everything. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I didn’t know when would be a good time.”

Renetta sighed and slid her skates along the ice, drawing repeating strokes in a fan-like shape. “There’s never really a good time, but I guess there’s never really a bad time either.” She shrugged. “I’m okay, I guess.” It was cold on the holodeck all of a sudden, and Renetta felt incredibly small. “I don’t know about the party. I’ve never been one for massive social gatherings, and going alone just seems… depressing.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to go alone.”

“I don’t exactly have a date anymore.”

A gust of wind whipped around them and Renetta shuddered. Her stomach hurt and she wanted to cry.

“I could be your date,” Thriss offered.

Renetta looked up at the woman sitting next to her and gave her an uncertain look. “I’m sure you have better options, Thriss. Really, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

The tall woman set her blue lips in a tight line and straightened her back. “Let me rephrase that: _Will_ you be my date for the party?”

“Don’t be silly, I--”

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Silence followed, and the longer it stretched out, the more both of them fought to maintain straight faces.

“Fine,” Renetta ceded, smiling. “But I don’t have to like it.”

Thriss flashed Renetta a charming smile as she stood up and pushed off the bench, picking up her stick from where she’d stuck it in the snow as she sailed out onto the ice. “Oh, you’ll like it. I’ll make sure of that.” Renetta hopped down and followed her friend out onto the pond. “I care about you, Renetta. I want to see you happy.” They came to a halt beside the remainder of the pile of pucks, and Thriss softened her tone. “I know it’ll take some time, but things will settle down and life will take on a sense of order again. In the meantime, remember that you have friends who are here to lean on. Koltak might not be the first to show it, but they care about you more than I think words can express. Me?” Thriss nudged Renetta’s arm. “I’ll show it until you hate me for it.”

Renetta let out a quiet laugh. The sensation felt so foreign, and she realized it had been a long time since she’d felt this happy. _When I met Thriss, I’d never have imagined her to be so warm and caring and… aggressively supportive. I guess you can’t judge anyone just by how they act on-duty._ A lump began to rise in her throat as a fresh round of tears announced their arrival. _No, not now. Later._ “We should make sure Koltak is going, too,” Renetta said, steering her emotions in a different direction.

“Agreed.” Thriss scooped a puck from the dwindling pile. “Shooting contest?”

Renetta grinned, and for the first time since the incident, she felt almost like her old self again. “Computer, reset pucks for shooting practice.” The pile replenished itself, and the hunk of rubber on Thriss’ stick disappeared. She reached for another one and Renetta chopped the blade of hers down, blocking the way.

“Hey!” Thriss laughed, poking at the obstruction.

“Home ice advantage,” Renetta beamed, brushing the other stick aside. “I get first shot.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Captain’s Log, Stardate 48972.1: It’s been six months to the day since_ Babel _left Utopia Planitia on our voyage to explore beyond the borders of the Federation, and the feeling around the ship is that we’ve done so much in that short time, and so little as well. We encountered trouble before even leaving Federation space, averting a medical crisis at Starbase 214 that was instigated by a rogue group of aliens known as the Strux, though we didn’t know that at the time. With an unknown enemy lurking in the shadows, we continued to explore, charting new star systems, observing a near-warp culture as they struggled to overcome a cultural and philosophical social barrier, encountered a new form of life living in subspace itself, and eventually making contact with the Strux government, among others. I’ve negotiated a peace treaty between two warring states, narrowly averted an assasination, shared memories with my senior officers with the help of an alien probe, and seen disaster strike on a routine away mission that cost my best pilot the ability to fly. In all that time, though, we’ve yet to forge a meaningful, permanent relationship with a civilization beyond our borders or make progress on uncovering the mystery that sent us here. The crew is tense and anxious, and with that in mind I’ve given my First Officer the responsibility of organizing a winter gala event in the hopes of raising morale and bringing the crew closer together. I fear that without a strong bond, they may find themselves unprepared for what the future will bring._  
  
As he finished his log entry, Raj heard the telltale chirp of his combadge and answered quickly. “Murali here. What is it?”  
  
 _“Captain, we’re picking up a signal from a ship’s emergency beacon. A Federation emergency beacon.”_  
  
Raj was out of his chair in an instant and headed for the door to the bridge. It was the _Dauntless_. It had to be. The doors barely had time to open before he was through and halfway to the center seat. Ensign Kase, the brunette manning the Ops station and the one who had called him seconds earlier, turned around in her chair to continue her report.  
  
“Sir, the signal’s gone. It was faint, and there was no message attached, but it was on a standard Federation emergency subspace band transmitting an SOS.”  
  
“How far away?” he asked impatiently.  
  
“It’s hard to say exactly, sir, but we can attempt to triangulate its position from our course and speed, along with the data from the signal.”  
  
Raj nodded. “Do it.” He took his seat at the center of the bridge and stared out at the stars projected on the viewscreen as if he could find the mysterious lost ship through determination alone. A minute later, Kase had her results.  
  
“It’s four days away from here at our maximum cruising speed. Orders, sir?”  
  
“Set a course for the source of the signal at Warp Six and get us underway.”  
  
“Aye, sir,” said Ensign Jemison, the helmswoman opposite Kase. It was her normal shift, but the sight of someone other than young David Brahms at the helm cut at Raj like a knife, even a month after his capture and torture at the hands of an exiled alien scientist who’d managed to escape justice.  
  
“Ensign Kase, I want _Babel_ ’s sensor pod online and scanning the vicinity of the emergency signal. We may not be searching for protostars or spatial anomalies, but that’s no reason not to put the best shipboard sensor array in Starfleet to good use. I’ll be in the ready room reviewing reports, but call me the moment you find anything out of the ordinary. You have the bridge, Ensign.”  
  
“Aye, sir.” The brunette nodded again and began keying in commands to her console before taking out a PADD and typing away.


	5. Chapter 5

The halls of Deck Eleven were quiet as Jessica made her way from the turbolift to the gym without seeing a soul, and she offered her silent thanks to the universe for at least that one small miracle. It was at times like this, with countless sources of frustration and no one she could begin to talk to about them, that she found solace in the ship’s small gymnasium. Despite the ready availability of holodeck technology that could recreate any workout program known to man, there was something about using real weights and real equipment in the gym that just felt more satisfying to her.  
  
The doors opened to a wide, high bay central room, with courts for a handful of sporting events on one side and row upon row of exercise equipment on the other. A primitive climbing wall lined the far side of the gym, though she hadn’t seen it in use on _Babel_ or any other ship she’d been on. Rock climbing was one area where even Jessica had been forced to admit the holodeck was far more enjoyable. She tossed her towel down on a bench and made her way toward the near wall, intending to take out her frustration on a hanging bag until her knuckles were bloody when she heard a groan. She spun on her heel but was hardly prepared for the sight of a young man lying on a weight bench pinned under the bar. Almost immediately she recognized the ship’s former top helmsman.  
  
“David!” she shouted, dashing to his side and lifting the bar off of his chest. It was hardly heavy, certainly no more than fifty kilos, but for someone in Ensign Brahms’ condition it was nearly suicidal. Since his capture and torture at Makapo IV, David hadn’t been the same, losing an eye and much of his muscle control. Doctor Dupont had predicted that even after incredibly successful treatments, he’d still take years to recover anything resembling normal function and most strenuous physical activity would be beyond his reach for the rest of his life. A late-night, solo workout at the gym was definitely not part of his prescribed physical therapy.  
  
Jessica set the bar down on the floor beside the bench, and David let out a series of sputtering coughs. She rounded on him without giving him a chance to recover.  
  
“What the hell were you thinking? You could have died doing something so stupid!”  
  
David glared at her with his remaining eye as he regained his breath. He pulled himself to a sitting position before speaking in a low, haggard voice.  
  
“Maybe I’d be saving you all a lot of trouble then.”  
  
“What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?”  
  
“Who cares if I am?” he spat back. “If I’m going to, I may as well get it out of the way and rid you of the dead weight.”  
  
Jessica bit back an oath and tried to calm her temper. This wasn’t just some act of stubborn pride. David’s condition had clearly gone far beyond physical damage, and the last thing he needed now was to be berated by a superior officer.  
  
“David,” she started, taking a gentler tone. “You’re not dead weight to anyone. You’re hurt, that’s all. You need to take things slow if you’re going to recover.”  
  
“Don’t try to hide the truth from me, Lieutenant. I’m _not_ going to recover. You know that. I know that. The doctor knows that. I’m broken, disfigured, useless. I’m no use to anybody, and I’m never going to be again. I’m not good for anything but pity now, and I’d rather be dead than pitied.”  
  
David’s shoulders slumped as he spoke, and Jessica recognized the hollow look in his eye. She’d learned to recognize it when she first started in station security, fresh out of the Academy. It marked someone who’d given up on their own life and had nothing left to lose. They were dangerous, both to others and to themselves, and she’d spent the better part of a year learning to put them away for the safety of the thousands of people whose well-being depended on it, but she’d never learned what to do if she saw the look in the eye of a friend. She took a seat next to him on the bench and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“I don’t pity you, David, but I do worry about you. It takes a lot of strength to keep going through something like this, and I wouldn’t want anyone to have to go through it alone. I haven’t seen you around much since... since what happened last month. Are you still getting out? Still seeing people?” She saw David wince and immediately regretted her choice of words. He and Renetta had been together since just after _Babel_ ’s launch, and they’d been the couple most of the crew figured would stand the test of time until they’d split almost immediately after being rescued.  
  
“The Captain put me on indefinite medical leave,” he replied. “I suppose that was really his only option. We’re on a deep space mission, so he can’t exactly turn the ship around and find a starbase to dump me off on, and he can’t officially discharge me while I’m still here on the ship. Renetta doesn’t want to see me, I’m sure, and my other friends were still her friends first, so I just try to stay out of the way.”  
  
“David, the Captain isn’t going to discharge you,” Jessica said. “Your condition doesn’t have to mean the end of your career.”  
  
“Doesn’t it, though?” he asked angrily. “My vision and my motor control are useless, and I’m a _pilot_. What use is a helmsman who can’t fly in an emergency?”  
  
Jessica bit back another hasty reply, instead letting out a slow, steady breath. “You know, there are lots of other jobs besides flying the ship. Have you considered transferring to a new department?”  
  
David raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t tell me you’re about to offer me a job in security? I’ll promise not to drop my phaser too often, and I can manage a decent limping speed in a chase.”  
  
“Very funny. But there are plenty of jobs that don’t require you to be at your peak physical shape. This ship is understaffed as it is, so I’m sure any department head would be happy to take you.”  
  
David just shook his head. “That’s a nice way of saying they don’t get to say no, regardless of whether they want me. I told you I don’t want to be pitied, and I don’t want a job out of sympathy either.”  
  
This time it was too much for her to hold back. Jessica stood up from the bench and turned to look down at the young man. “Look, I know that this is hard for you. I know that’s a hell of an understatement. But you can’t tell me you don’t want to be pitied when you don’t put in the effort to get anything else. You’re right, a new department head might not want to deal with having you on their team, but I’ll bet it has a lot more to do with your attitude than the fact that you’re crippled.”  
  
David reeled back like he’d been physically struck. “Excuse me?”  
  
“You heard me,” she said. “Right now, I wouldn’t want you on my team if you _could_ handle the job. You’re giving up without even putting up a fight.”  
  
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked, gesturing to the equipment around him. “Why would I be pushing myself so hard if I was giving up?”  
  
“You’re not here to push yourself,” she snapped back, “you’re here to hide. You know damn well that you can’t lift weights yet. That’s not pushing yourself, that’s looking to die without even the guts to be honest about it. If you were trying to prove you could do it, you’d do it during the day, with someone to see you, not in the middle of the night with no one to stop you. If you were looking to make progress, you’d be out seeing people, but instead, you hide in your quarters waiting for someone to feel bad enough that they come to you. If you wanted to feel useful, you’d be thinking about the jobs you still _can_ do, instead of focusing on the one you can’t. You want me to be honest with you? I think there’s a lot you still _can_ do here, but I think you’re too scared to try.”  
  
David clenched his jaw tight, and for a moment she thought he was going to shout right back at her, but after a few moments of silence, he began to relax.  
  
“What am I supposed to do?” he said in a whisper. “Flying is all I’ve ever known. It’s all I’ve ever _wanted_ to do. Without that, I don’t know who I am.”  
  
Jessica relaxed, too. He was starting to ask the tough questions now, and that meant he was at least safe for the night. “I don’t know either,” she replied. “I wish I had an easy answer for you, but I think that question is going to be one of the hardest you’ve ever had to answer. What I do know is that you’re a Starfleet officer, and that means you have the strength and the talent to get through this. You’ll find something, I know you will. And if you need help finding it, there’s a lot of good people out there that would be happy to do their part.” _And at least one onboard that isn’t, whom I have yet to find._ She stuck out her hand and helped him to his feet, and tried her best to look confident. “Why don’t you stop by Commander O’Malley’s party this week? Just being around the rest of the crew is a good start. You don’t have to know what to say or what to do. Just be yourself and accept that that’s enough.”  
  
“And what happens when I make a fool of myself? The last thing I need is for half of the ship to see me collapse and get carted off to Sickbay.”  
  
Jessica gave him a sympathetic smile. “I think you’ll find that the people on this ship aren’t as cruel as you give them credit for.”


	6. Chapter 6

“If we line up those long tables along the aft wall and set up the dining tables in the back, then we could have the front area open for mingling…” Shannon trailed off, moving her gesturing hand from where it had been waving about in front of her to rest on her chin, pensively. “Or we could move the long tables to the front of the hall to streamline traffic to the tables in the middle and leave the back wall open as a mingling and observation area so people could look out the windows…” Frazzled and increasingly uncertain of her decision-making skills, Shannon turned to Hob, Ten Forward’s usual bartender, who seemed preoccupied with whatever notes he had been taking.  
  
“Hob, I don’t know what I was thinking, signing up to organize this event.” She let down her long red ponytail and ran her fingers along her scalp as if a massage was all her brain needed to get going in the right direction.  
  
The older, dark-skinned man glanced up from his notes. His fingers continued typing. “You seem to be doing just fine to me.” He arched a gray eyebrow over an even grayer eye. “Did you expect to get it right on the first try?”  
  
Shannon chewed at her lip, still glancing around the room, imagining one layout after another. “I expected it to be a little less… revisional.” She turned her attention back to her notes and resumed crunching numbers in her head. _Assuming we have a few hundred attendees in here at any given time, we need to make sure there’s enough room between tables for people to move around, and we need to be sure that there’s mingling space… unless people want to sit the whole time…_ “...but there will be music playing, so chances are they’ll want to get up and move around and possibly dance-- I hadn’t accounted for that.” Shannon began pacing the room, gesticulating and drawing in the air.  
  
“Tables spread across here would let attendees go directly from entrance to food to eating space before making their way to the windows to socialize… but it doesn’t leave much room for waitstaff to move between tables.” She paused and tapped her knuckle to her chin. “Assuming there are between one and two hundred guests present at a time, how many are going to be eating at once? Should we only have room to seat a fraction of them? Would people mind standing and eating? Maybe we could place some smaller tables and chairs around the room like there are in Ten Forward, so there would be someplace to set drinks.” Shannon gasped and spun around, tugging at her loose hair in exasperation. “I hadn’t even considered what some formalwear might need? Are they all narrow silhouettes? There should be at least one wide walkway for anyone who needs more room…” _David is stable enough to support himself steadily, right? He’d hate if I made accommodations for him, but… no, he should be fine. It’s just a gathering. It’s not some kind of-- No, he’ll be okay._  
  
Shannon released her hair and walked over to stand by the outer wall, assessing the room now from the opposite direction as she continued to plan out loud. “If half the room is filled with tables for eating… No, what if guests don’t want to sit in groups? Well, they have to sit somewhere because we need a presen--” The woman clapped a hand to her forehead. “I _completely_ forgot about the presentation space. Do we need a dedicated space for that? Center of the tables wouldn’t make sense, and Raj doesn’t seem like the kind of presenter to pace the room while talking… Maybe he could stand up here by the windows. Does he need a podium? Could we bring that out when it was time? He’s never needed a special stand to command a room before, but-- I ought to ask him what he prefers…”  
  
“Might I make a suggestion, Ms. O’Malley?” Hob asked.  
  
Shannon turned her attention fully and eagerly toward him. “Please.”  
  
“Your guests won’t care if you put two minutes or two days into deciding where you want them to sit. Feed them and entertain them, that’s all they’ll care about. At the end of the night, it’s the atmosphere that matters most, not the room layout.”  
  
“You’re right,” Shannon conceded with a sigh as she looked down at the PADD in her hands. She jotted down a few notes about room setup and checked the task off her list. “Alright, next we have decorations. Specifics are going to take some time because we want to have elements of as many festivals as possible without things clashing, but I was thinking we could use decorative lighting as the main source of illumination. Earth had a long-standing tradition of putting up Christmas trees even after the meaning behind them was lost to time. If we stood one in a corner somewhere and dressed it with lights, as per tradition, that could provide some…” She trailed off again, carrying the conversation into her head. _No, that would be too dark. Even with lanterns for Kal Rekk and the votives for Peldor, it would be too dark in here to safely navigate people and tables, especially when holding drinks._ “Computer, dim the lights to… twenty percent.”  
  
The lights began to dim before suddenly cutting out, plunging the room into darkness. Shannon turned to face Hob’s last known location. His face was illuminated by the light from his PADD. “What was that about?”  
  
Hob looked up and the light bobbed as he shrugged in the blackness. He seemed unfazed.  
  
“Computer, lights on.”  
  
There was no response. Shannon tapped her combadge. “O’Malley to Engineering. Chief, are you doing anything that would affect any of the ship’s power systems?”  
  
“ _No, Commander_ ,” came the voice of Lieutenant Naazt, _Babel_ ’s Tellarite Chief Engineer. “ _Why do you ask?_ ”  
  
“The lights just went out in the banquet hall and they won’t turn back on.”  
  
The comm channel filled with a low drone of grumbling as Naazt busied himself with something on the other end of the line. “ _Hmm_ ,” he finally muttered conclusively. “ _It looks like the lights are out all over Deck Eleven._ ”  
  
“Any idea why?”  
  
“ _I don’t know, Commander_ ,” he replied, “ _but I’m going to find out._ ”


	7. Chapter 7

The stocky, bearded Tellarite who strode off the turbolift and onto Deck Eleven was a man on a mission. Naazt clicked on his headlamp and began scanning the deck with his tricorder, searching for any of the dozens of common electrical problems that could take out the lighting on a starship. Following him out of the turbolift was his junior lieutenant, Jack Johnson, second-in-command of Engineering.  
  
“Johnson,” Naazt started, “I want you to check the EPS grid throughout the deck. A malfunction in one of the conduits could trip the lighting systems, though I’m not sure how the whole deck could have been affected. I’ll make my way to the banquet hall and work on the port side, you start on the starboard. Call me the moment you find something.”  
  
“Aye sir,” the lieutenant said with a nod, before picking up his toolkit and making for the far side of the saucer section.  
  
Naazt grumbled to himself as he paced through the hallways, scanning conduit after conduit for any sign of abnormalities in the ship’s power flow. He found nothing at all, which bothered him greatly. Starships, he’d realized over his many years in Starfleet, were very much like people. If something was wrong with them, they told you. Usually, they’d spend days whining about it before it became a serious problem, much to the shared irritation of engineers and doctors alike. As annoying as it might be, however, it always reassured him that his ship would tell him when something was wrong, indicating when and where a subsystem was about to fail or a power line about to short with easily diagnosable symptoms. Deck Eleven’s lighting system had given him no such warnings, and that meant that either someone had done something stupid or something on the ship was very wrong. He didn’t like either option.  
  
About halfway through his search, Naazt saw the large double doors leading to the banquet hall, a room he found to be a detestable waste of space on a starship. He’d suggested early on to the Captain that they use the room as additional cargo storage, a suggestion he’d been pleased to hear had met with Murali’s approval. At least, until now. _Now I’ve been forced to lend the “expertise” of ten of my team to organize a party when there’s work to be done,_ he thought to himself. _With the time they’re wasting, we could be performing that engine overhaul I’ve been asking for or running preparedness drills for emergency situations, or at the very least we could be doing the maintenance to prevent issues like this lighting fiasco from happening in the first place!_ Naazt stormed into the banquet hall, vocalizing his feelings in a barely audible string of Tellarite curses, only to collide with Commander O’Malley as soon as he cleared the doorway.  
  
“Commander!” he said with a start. “As you might be aware, there is a problem with the lights. Perhaps you should rethink standing in the doorway?”  
  
“I might have if I could see that I was standing in it in the first place,” she responded, sounding mildly annoyed. “Apparently, my sense of the room was a few meters off.”  
  
“It’s a good thing I brought these, then,” Naazt answered, opening his toolkit and retrieving several small flashlights. He handed one to the Commander and called out into the dark room.  
  
“Now where are the rest of my engineers? Break time’s over, there’s _real_ work to do!”  
  
“Over here, sir!” one shouted from the darkness. Naazt strode over and distributed the flashlights before barking out new orders. In a few short minutes, he had them in teams of two patrolling the deck, checking conduits for faults, and searching for the source of the lighting issue. With his team sorted out, Naazt marched back over to where the Commander and Hob, the ship’s caterer and bartender, were still talking.  
  
“Alright,” he snorted, coming to a halt a meter away from them and crossing his arms. “I need to know exactly what happened as you remember it. Commander?”  
  
With the flashlight illuminating her face, Naazt could make out Shannon chewing the inside of her cheek as she tried to recall the events leading up to the outage. “Hob and I were discussing table layouts for the gala,” she started, “when I decided to test out some different light levels to go with the different decorative lights from several of the cultures onboard. I asked the computer to dim the lights to twenty percent, and they started to dim but cut out entirely a few seconds later. The computer didn’t respond to any more lighting commands, and that’s when we called.”  
  
Naazt tugged at his beard irritably. “Hmm... I suppose it _could_ have been a faulty conduit that blew when adjusting the plasma flow, but something as simple as a change to the lights shouldn’t have been able to cause that type of damage. We’ll find the issue quickly, Commander, I’m sure of it.”  
  
Much to his irritation, finding the source of the issue wasn’t quick at all. He spent the next three hours going from one wall panel to the next until finally, he heard Johnson call him through his communicator.  
  
 _“Chief, I think I found the faulty conduit. It’s over here on the starboard side, junction box four-four-alpha.”_  
  
“What seems to be the problem with it?” Naazt asked, irritated but grateful to finally have something to work with.  
  
 _“It looks like faulty wiring took the conduit out, and a routing problem led to a cascading overload during the power transfer. It’s probably been getting worse and worse since we left Mars, and turning the lights down was just the last surge needed to take it out.”_  
  
“What are the odds of that?” Naazt muttered, changing course as he tried to work out the problem in his head.  
  
 _“What was that, Chief?”_  
  
“Nothing, Lieutenant. Just get it fixed.”  
  
 _“Aye, sir. Johnson out.”_  
  
Naazt paced down the corridor utterly distracted. There was something about the power outage that bothered him that he couldn’t quite place. Johnson had said that there was a plasma routing issue that caused the total shutdown of the lighting system, but Naazt had rebuilt that EPS layout by hand with the lieutenant while they were still on Utopia Planitia. He knew that layout like the back of his hand, and he would have seen the problem when he installed the panel in the first place. Mentally, he retraced the power grid to where it intersected with other key systems, trying to figure out what could possibly have caused the power draw. _Nothing on Deck Eleven is directly tied to the warp core, or the life support systems, or the weapons banks... the mission pod. The mission pod gets power routed through two junctions on this deck. If there was a major outage here, the power would get rerouted through those same junctions._ He took off at a run in the dark, ducking past confused crewmembers on the way.  
  
He knew exactly which panel he needed, the first one after the turn at ground level. He opened up his toolkit and pried the panel off with ease, but he was too late. The plasma conduit was completely dead, overloaded by the same cascading failure that had taken out the lights. A quick tricorder scan told him what he already suspected: The outage hadn’t been a random accident after all.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re saying the damage done to the EPS grid was a deliberate act of sabotage?” Raj asked carefully, running a hand through his beard. The Chief had reported damage to several plasma conduits, then immediately came to the bridge to speak with him in private.  
  
The Tellarite did not hesitate, one of the many qualities Raj liked about the man. Where others would pick away at a subject and hint at their opinions, Naazt told you exactly what he thought no matter the consequences.  
  
“Yes, it’s almost a certainty. I rebuilt the power grid myself before we departed the Sol system, and I _know_ there were no problems with the conduits on that deck. Even if we’d neglected maintenance since leaving the shipyards, it would take years to develop a problem like the one I found today. Furthermore, Deck Eleven has a lower than average power drain. That’s one of the primary reasons we use it to route power to the Nebula Class mission pods. If we were to see damage from neglect, it wouldn’t be there.”  
  
“But if someone were trying to disable the sensor suite in our mission pod while disguising it as an accident...” Raj left the rest of the thought unspoken and turned his attention to his security chief, who’d been listening silently for the duration of Naazt’s report. “Lieutenant, your thoughts?”  
  
The young woman frowned and continued to stare at the PADD in her hands. “I think we’re getting desperate, we need help, and we can safely rule him out as the suspect.”  
  
“Suspect?” Naazt’s brow furrowed and his face began to redden as he took in the full meaning of her words. “You suspected _me_ of harming _my_ ship? This is an outrage! This is madness!” The stocky Tellarite continued to drum up obscenities as he paced around the ready room. “Captain, if you didn’t trust me, why even put me on this ship in the first place?”  
  
Raj met Jessica’s eye and let out a deep sigh as he nodded reluctantly. “Chief, there are a few things you need to know about our mission, and I think Lieutenant Barnes can clear up some of your questions. The short version is that I believe you, and I’ve known since we departed Mars that we had someone onboard working against us. I want you to work with Jess to track down our saboteur, and I want you to keep it quiet. You two report only to myself and each other until this investigation is done. I think we can safely conclude that whatever is being planned for us has to do with the signal we’re tracking down, and with the damage to the sensor pod, we’re effectively flying blind until we get there. Until we know more, we need to maintain the illusion that we know nothing. That means no additional security sweeps, no last-minute drills, and we keep the rest of the senior staff focused on our end of year celebration. Is that clear?”  
  
The two lieutenants shared an uneasy look before responding in unison.  
  
“Perfectly, sir.”


	9. Chapter 9

Renetta paced the length of her quarters back and forth, again and again. Occasionally, she stopped to sift through a handful of assorted trinkets she’d picked out and tossed on her bed before resuming her route and resumed her frustrated laps. _I have a hard enough time thinking of a dish to bring at a potluck or something for a friend’s birthday. This is arguably less important than either of those occasions and still, I’m at a loss._ The short, black-haired woman spun on her heel in front of her small sofa and let out an exasperated groan as she threw herself down onto the stiff cushions.  
  
“This is the worst,” she lamented to herself, tossing her arms in the air before laying them to rest in a tangle across her forehead. “Give me complex computations for subspace distortions or tell me to calculate the strength of a warp bubble under high-stress conditions and I’m fine. Ask me to bring a special item to a dumb party and, oh no!” she flailed her arms at the ceiling, “the brilliant young physicist is struck down in her tracks!” Renetta feigned an exaggerated death to her audience of zero as the chime of the door announced the presence of a visitor in the hall.  
  
“Please, come in and put me out of my misery,” she grumbled, rolling herself into a sitting stance and rearranging her displaced curls.  
  
The doors parted and Thriss stepped into the room, the worry on her face gradually shifting to concerned amusement. “That was rather dramatic, even for you,” she said, leaning back against the wall. “Are you rehearsing for something, or is today just one of those days?”  
  
“Today is just one of those days,” Renetta muttered, tipping back over to sprawl on the couch. “I’m excited for the gala, but the Commander suggested that everyone bring something to decorate the tree, and after an hour of serious contemplation, I have zero ideas and a pile of stuff heaped on my bed.” She waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the items she’d set aside. “I just don’t know where to start or what to look for.”  
  
Thriss approached the couch and picked up Renetta’s legs, swinging them aside to clear a space for her to sit. “Well, that makes two of us,” she said, sitting down with a grunt and throwing her arms over the back of the seat. “I came here to ask you if you had any ideas.”  
  
“Then maybe between the two of us, we can come up with some ideas. Two brains are better than one, right?” She hopped up, already halfway there thanks to Thriss’s rearrangement, and strode to the replicator. “Want something?”  
  
“I just had lunch, but thank you.”  
  
Renetta shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned to the replicator. “Tea, black, hot, double-sweet with cream.” Moments later, a small glass mug filled with steaming, light brown liquid materialized before her. She picked it up and took a sip, savoring the perfect concoction before turning her attention back to her friend. “Okay, let’s start from the top. Commander O’Malley is throwing a big winter party that’s supposed to incorporate elements of different holidays across the galaxy. Attendees are encouraged to bring something with which to decorate this big Christmas tree. There’s also some kind of goodwill thing where people exchange niceties and do good turns of favor for one another..”  
  
“I’m not sure your culture and my culture have the same idea of holiday spirit,” Thriss snorted.  
  
“Why do you say that? Don’t you have some kind of winter holiday… thing?”  
  
“First off, your concept of seasons is incredibly subjective. Andoria is an ice moon. It’s always winter.”  
  
Renetta stopped mid-sip, swallowed, and glanced from Thriss to her cup of tea. “Right. Well, in that case, how about your favorite tradition surrounding the new year?”  
  
“I always did like the ceremonial reenactment duels of famous battles.” Thriss looked like she had been about to say something else before deciding against it and falling silent, turning her attention fully back to Renetta.  
  
There was a pause before the young woman took her turn speaking. “Don’t you have any family traditions? We would always at least get the extended family together and have a big meal to ring in the new year, usually staying up until midnight to celebrate.”  
  
Thriss abruptly rose from the couch and headed for the replicator.  
  
“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Renetta called to the tall, blue woman’s back.  
  
“I’m not. Andorian ale, double.”  
  
Renetta raised an eyebrow but said nothing as the drink materialized and Thriss grabbed it, downing the sky blue shot in a single gulp. The woman shuddered and placed the glass back in the replicator, recycling it before turning back to the sitting area.  
  
“God, I hate synthehol, but it’s still a far sight more tolerable than the idea of family time.”  
  
“Bad memories?” Prying didn’t seem like the wisest idea, but she was too curious not to ask.  
  
“Bad system, bad luck, bad… everything.” Thriss paused, clearly with more left to say. She glanced across the room to the replicator before letting out a long sigh and sinking her snowy white head into her blue hands. “Andorian family dynamics are fourfold, complicated, and typically arranged very early on. Three members contribute genetic material for offspring and the fourth -- the Zhen -- is really just a vessel. They carry the child to term, risk their lives for the family’s infant, and that’s about it. I never wanted anything to do with having a family. I never wanted to be anyone’s incubator, so I’ve ended up without much of a family to speak of.” Thriss shifted uncomfortably, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her legs. “If there are family traditions, it’s been a long time since I observed them, and I’d hardly consider myself an expert on the subject.”  
  
The room fell silent save for the hum of the ship’s engines. After what felt like an eternity, Thriss finally spoke again. “I’m sorry. Family is a bit of a sensitive subject. I don’t talk about it much.”  
  
“I can understand why,” Renetta answered quietly, slowly swirling the remainder of her drink in its cup. “I appreciate that you did, though.”  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
The pair was quiet again for a long while. Renetta finished the last of her tea and walked over to the replicator to recycle the glass. _There has to be something I can do to turn this around_. She thought of the pile of effects lying on her bed and suddenly had an idea.  
  
“Thriss, I’ve got it!” the small woman exclaimed, bounding across her quarters. “A ship’s crew is like family, and ice hockey is a winter sport that brought us both together.” She snatched up a piece of crimson fabric with a stylized leaf printed on the front and brandished it proudly. “Why don’t we decorate the tree with what brings us joy?”  
  
Thriss’s antennae twitched and the tall woman sat up straighter. “That’s not a bad idea. I bet I can replicate an Andorian Aces jersey.”  
  
“Well then, there we go! We’ve solved our conundrum.” Renetta ambled over and dropped herself down on the couch beside her friend, smiling genuinely. “I’m glad that’s out of the way, and I’m glad you told me about your holiday sentiments.”  
  
“I’ll tell you more someday. I just don’t know when.” Thriss’s gaze was somewhere far away for a moment before she came back to the present. “For now, what do you say we grab our skates and hit the holodeck?”  
  
“I’d say that sounds like a great idea.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Raktajino, steamed.”  
  
The replicator whirred, and a yellow light slowly resolved into a hot mug of the exceptionally strong Klingon drink, which Jessica picked up immediately. She took a long sip and turned back to her counterpart, who sat next to a discarded PADD with a drink of his own in hand. Naazt raised a hairy eyebrow at her.  
  
“Is that your third tonight, Lieutenant? I don’t understand how you can drink the stuff.”  
  
She let out a short laugh. “Why, too strong for you, Chief?”  
  
The Tellarite snorted and shook his head. “Too strong? My people make a liquid stimulant that makes your _raktajino_ seem like water! I don’t understand how you can drink that stuff because it tastes like tar without the pleasant aftertaste.”  
  
“Did you ever consider that maybe that’s part of its charm?”  
  
Naazt muttered something to himself that Jessica knew she didn’t want translated, and she joined him on the couch. They’d spent the better part of the evening going over the events of the previous twenty-four hours, hoping to narrow down the suspect list to those with the opportunity to overload the power flow to the sensor pod.  
  
Naazt balled his hands into fists and pounded the coffee table in frustration. “We’ve been at this for hours and we still don’t know more than when we started! Anyone with a modicum of knowledge could have rerouted the plasma flow. It can be done in minutes, even less with the right tools.”  
  
Jessica shook her head. “Not everyone on the ship has that kind of knowledge, though. The panels are easy to work with, sure, but how many people know the layout of the grid well enough to find the right one to divert the flow to the sensor pod? They’d need to be in Engineering, Ops, maybe Security...”  
  
“Any officer could pull up the grid from the computer and figure it out,” Naazt countered. “And the departments you listed have plenty of enlisted personnel. Our possible suspects number in the hundreds.”  
  
Jessica took another sip from her mug. “Alright, I’ll cede that one to you. But how would our culprit know to take down the sensor pod? Only the senior staff know about the signal we’re headed for, along with anyone on the bridge when they found it. That puts us at only a dozen people. Who can we rule out?”  
  
Naazt ran a meaty hand through his beard. “I think we can safely rule out the Captain.”  
  
Jessica rolled her eyes. “You think so?”  
  
“I do,” he replied, oblivious to her tone. “Barring some sort of intensive hypnotic conditioning, I think I can rule myself out as well. You could have done it, I suppose, but I don’t have any reason to doubt you right now. Where does that leave us?”  
  
She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, but she had to admire his thoroughness. There was some merit to his reasoning, though. “Assuming the two of us and the Captain are beyond suspicion, we’ve got a pretty small list of candidates. Let’s start with the obvious: Commander O’Malley is in a position of power on the ship and was on Deck Eleven when the power went out. She was with Hob and some of his people when the actual failure occurred, but she could have been down there before they started working and no one would have questioned it.”  
  
Naazt furrowed his brow as he reviewed his own notes. “Yes, she certainly had the opportunity, but I find it hard to believe that she would sabotage the ship.”  
  
Jessica sighed. “Naazt, I find it hard to believe that _anyone_ would sabotage a Federation starship, but someone clearly did. The Captain has suspected deliberate foul play since our mission began, and not without reason. _Someone_ was planted on this ship with the intent to do harm, and it goes without saying that whoever it is was put somewhere they’d be capable of doing whatever they needed to do. Frankly, you and Shannon have been at the top of my suspect list for the past few months. I don’t _want_ to believe it of anyone, but I’ve been disappointed by people before!”  
  
It was only after she looked up at the engineer’s expression that she realized she’d been shouting. She downed the rest of her drink and slumped back against the couch. “I’m sorry. I’m just taking this too personally. Who else is on our list?”  
  
Naazt scanned the PADD and spoke as though her outburst had never happened. “Chief Medical Officer Clara Dupont.”  
  
She shook her head. “The doctor? I’m willing to believe a lot of awful things about a lot of people, but I think she’s the least likely person on the ship to be behind this. When people plan criminal activity, they show signs. Stress, anxiety, change in temperament, antisocial behavior... but Doctor Dupont doesn’t show any indicators. Besides, there’s too little reward and too much risk in putting your double agent in a medical role. Getting access to any technical data would draw suspicion, as would lingering around plasma conduits or any other systems you’d want to damage.”  
  
Naazt simply nodded, marked off the name in his list, and kept going down the chain of command. “Lieutenant Caldwell?”  
  
She felt her heart lurch in her chest. She wanted to object, to say that he had no possible motive, but that was true of everyone, and she’d made that point herself just moments earlier. As an officer and member of the senior staff, he knew _Babel_ ’s course and Raj’s order to investigate the strange signal. He was certainly smart enough to obtain and decipher the schematics for the EPS grid. _And if he’d been working on betraying his crew for the last six months, would sleeping with the Chief of Security be just a part of his plan? Has he been lying to me? To everyone? I don’t want it to be him, but I don’t want it to be anyone. I can’t rule him out._  
  
“Lieutenant? Your thoughts?”  
  
Naazt startled her back to reality, and she buried the thought. “Sorry, just thinking. Raktajino can only help so much. I can’t rule him out. Keep him on the list.”  
  
The Tellarite nodded. “Perhaps we would serve the investigation better if we both got some rest. There are a few more officers on the list we should look into, but I still think our insider had help. If you work on the officer list, I’ll stick to my element and focus on tracking down any other mechanical problems we may start having. Occam’s Razor would tend to imply an engineer is at least partially responsible, and I take that as a highly personal offense.”  
  
Jessica opened her mouth to argue, to insist they keep working, but her retort morphed into an involuntary yawn, and she sagged back in defeat.  
  
“You’re right, I need sleep. Just a few hours, though, there’s work to be done. I want an update every four hours, even if it’s to tell me you don’t have anything.”  
  
Naazt nodded. “Good luck. And good night, Lieutenant.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Despite the unexplained power failure on Deck Eleven the other day, things seem to be running smoothly so far today. The damaged conduits have been repaired and all systems are operational again. I had heard there were still some minor issues with the sensor pod, but as of oh-seven-hundred hours, engineering teams were working on getting them back up and running. The sensors should be back online sometime this afternoon.” Shannon scrolled through the notes for her morning report, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. “Doctor Dupont says Ensign Brahms is making progress in his physical therapy, and his mood, though still understandably dour, seems to be mildly improving. Other crew notes: Lenka Morovich, a member of the catering crew, has announced that she’s pregnant,” Shannon looked up rather excitedly. “It’ll be _Babel_ ’s first child; I thought you might find that interesting.” She scrolled a little farther before setting her PADD in her lap. “And one of the junior security officers under Lieutenant Barnes managed to badly sprain a wrist… somehow. They claimed it was an ‘occupational accident,’ and I didn’t bother asking specifics.”  
  
Raj looked like he had tuned out after her updates on the sensor pod and David’s wellbeing, as he often did when she wandered into specifics on the crew. Most of the updates were trivial injuries like the security officer’s sprained wrist, but some days brought more substantial news, like a faulty replicator leading to fifteen cases of food poisoning. As a result, she made a habit of including the minutiae, if for no other reason than being thorough.  
  
“While we’re on the subject of crew,” Shannon continued, “Koltak has completed their certification course and is eligible to receive their officer’s rank.”  
  
“That’s good news,” the Captain replied. “They’ve certainly earned the promotion, and I’ll be happy to award it personally. It seems to me that we have several members of the crew who’ve gone above and beyond these last six months.”  
  
“I agree. We’ve been thrust into some particularly trying circumstances since we left Mars, and there has been no shortage of individuals who have exceeded expectations, among both junior and senior officers.” She wanted to add a note, commending the bravery of Ensigns Brahms and Benson, though she felt that, at this point, it went without saying that they’d sacrificed the most of anyone so far on _Babel_ ’s voyage.  
  
Raj nodded. “You and I have already discussed promoting Lieutenant Caldwell to the rank of full Lieutenant, and giving him full control of the Science department. Do you think he’s ready?”  
  
“I think that the incident on Makapo IV and his time in command of the bridge have given him some varied and valuable opportunities for experience in a leadership position. He’s clearly most comfortable when within the bounds of his expertise, so promoting him to the head of the Science department seems like a wise choice. With a proper department head in place, that will free up a considerable amount of my time. I suspect he’ll excel in his new role.” Shannon felt a spark of pride for Lieutenant Caldwell. They’d both found a new level of comfort in leadership positions here on _Babel_ , and while their paths were very different, they’d progressed more or less side by side. He was a good friend, and she suspected he’d do great things as their Chief Science Officer, assuming he could be dragged away from his work to sleep once in a while. “Who else is up for consideration?”  
  
“I’ve also been considering Lieutenant Barnes. Her performance record to date goes far beyond her current rank, and she has substantial command experience. As third in command of this ship, the rank of Lieutenant Commander feels appropriate.”  
  
Shannon adjusted her posture and fiddled with her fingernails in her lap, out of sight of the Captain. She and Jessica were approaching more amicable terms with one another, but the idea of having another member of the crew matching rank with the XO made Shannon incredibly uneasy. Her status as the ship’s First Officer still felt like a position held in title only. The bulk of her career had been spent researching and directing small groups of people within the sciences, not guiding multiple departments through life and death scenarios. When it came to presence and authority, Jessica easily had Shannon beat. Personal disputes, however, were not valid grounds for opposing a crewmember’s promotion.  
  
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not sure she’s ready for a promotion yet. Her enthusiasm for her job and her service record certainly play strongly in her favor, but Lieutenant Barnes tends to favor some rather unorthodox methods, and her impulsive decision-making skills make me question whether or not she carries out orders in the name of Starfleet rather than her own self-interest at times.” Shannon could sense Raj’s scrutiny setting in, and she fished for a tangible example. “Recall our mission to the Yapha system, where we sent an away team to investigate the pre-warp civilization of the Moraga. The group ended up split with Mr. Caldwell and I detained in a prison and Lieutenant Barnes among the ranks of a rebel cell. She was the one responsible for our eventual rescue, as well as the treatment of a sick Moraga boy, but her plan came at the cost of the Prime Directive. The circumstances were exceptional, but the swiftness and ease with which she shirked our most important guideline is rather concerning to me.” She paused to take a breath and let her reasoning settle with the Captain. “I do believe that she has more than earned a promotion, but I would like to see Lieutenant Barnes solve an altercation by Federation standards rather than her own before we award it.”  
  
Raj arched an eyebrow at her, and Shannon expected an argument. Instead, he made a note on his display and simply said “understood.”  
  
“I would like to propose an officer for promotion,” Shannon proceeded, eager to move on from the subject of Jessica. “Given the events of our most recent away mission, I believe Miss Benson ought to at least be considered for a promotion to a Lieutenant, junior grade. The circumstances she endured were well beyond the bounds of her expected duty, and her performance as _Babel_ ’s warp theorist has been surprisingly unmarred by the traumatic experience. For such a young officer, I feel that she has more than earned the commendation.”  
  
The Captain’s thoughts turned inward as his mind left the conversation on the table between them. She could see the gears turning in his head before he emerged a few moments later with his verdict. “I’m more concerned about her job performance than the trauma she experienced, at least as a factor in her eligibility for promotion. Still, I agree that her work has been exemplary, and she shows a natural aptitude and adaptability that goes well beyond the skill of an ensign. I think a promotion to Lieutenant, junior grade would be well deserved. We can make the announcement during your gala event and give the crew another reason to celebrate. Speaking of, how is the planning going?”  
  
“Gala plans are coming along smoothly. We’ve made all the arrangements for food, decorations, layout, and expectations on the part of attendees. All that’s left to do now is check over what we have and set up the venue,” her confident expression gave way to a small frown. “And hope we don’t have another poorly-timed power failure.”  
  
The Captain gave her an odd look, which she returned with less intensity. The sudden shift in his demeanor made her wonder if she’d said something out of line or was somehow off schedule with her planning. Raj’s quiet response interrupted Shannon’s spiraling thoughts.  
  
“That would certainly be unfortunate.” He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and his voice became more audible, more self-assured. “Anything else to report, Commander?”  
  
 _I know that look._ “No, sir,” she responded, “though, you seem to have something on your mind. Is there something I missed?”  
  
Raj’s face went cold, and Shannon knew she’d caught something. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Just preoccupied with these maintenance reports. I’ve had a long couple of days.”  
  
“If they’re giving you trouble, I’d be happy to lend a second set of eyes.” She noticed the deep lines between his brows. For just being preoccupied with some maintenance reports, he certainly seemed to be running himself ragged. “Is there…” she hesitated. “Is there something besides the maintenance reports keeping you up at night? You look like you haven’t slept in a day and a half. If it’s taking up that much of your time, I’d strongly suggest you let me help.”  
  
“Commander, I’ve been busy,” Raj snapped. “Let’s leave it at that. Don’t you have work to be doing?”  
  
Shannon held her tongue and swallowed the remainder of her words. Whatever was amiss wasn’t going to be sorted out here and now. Instead, she got to her feet and stepped aside. “You’re right. If there’s nothing else I can do for you right now, I’ll return to my duties.” Without waiting to be excused, she exited the ready room, knowing that their unfinished conversation would stew in the back of her mind for the remainder of the day.


	12. Chapter 12

Jessica could smell the curry before she even reached the door of Jeremy’s quarters. While his cooking skills were still far from professional-grade, she had to admit the man had a talent for picking his spices. Trying to keep from drooling as the distinctly sweet, savory aroma hit her nose, she rang the door chime.

“Come in!”

She opened the door to a scene out of a murder mystery holonovel. Garlic powder from a spilled container covered the countertop, traces of curry sauce were spread on any surface within two meters of the stovetop, and the pleasant aroma she’d smelled outside hung thick in the air, forcing her to cough before the door could close behind her.

“Sorry about the mess,” called the voice of Jeremy Caldwell from somewhere in the haze. “There’ve been a few, uh, _complications_ with dinner.”

“I’ll say,” she replied as she took a seat on the couch. This was their third weekly dinner, and from the smell if not the sight of the kitchen, it was going to be better than their first two. “Do you want any help with that?”

“No, no,” he called from over an aggressively boiling pot. “I’m just about done. You have a seat and make yourself comfortable. Maybe grab us a couple of drinks?”

“Sure, beer or wine?” she asked, making her way to the replicator.

Jeremy uttered a string of indistinct thinking noises before calling over his shoulder. “How about wine? Red would be nice.”

Jessica entered the order at the replicator and conjured a pair of glasses. She took a sip from her own, nodded in approval, and took a seat at the small dining table. Moments later, Jeremy rounded the corner with a bowl in each hand.

“I’ve practiced this one a few times before, but this is the first time I’ve used real spices, so if the balance is a little off, let me know.” He set a bowl down at each of their places and reached for his glass of wine as he settled in his seat. “Here’s to another evening with my favorite woman,” he raised his glass for a toast.

_Don’t look too uncomfortable now,_ she thought. _Just try to get your questions answered without tipping him off._ She forced a smile and raised her glass to his. Across the table, she could see the concern creeping across Jeremy’s face as he processed her reaction, which she’d clearly failed to conceal as well as she’d hoped.

“Long day?” he asked, setting down his glass and picking up his fork.

She sighed in relief, hoping he’d take it as exhaustion. “Yeah, long day, sorry. Dinner smells good, though. What’s in it?”

“It’s creamy chicken curry. If I made it right, it should be a little sweet, a little savory, and a _little_ spicy.” He scooped up a piece of meat and assessed it. “If I did it wrong, well, it’s anybody’s guess. At least I remembered to go light on the salt this time.” He took a hesitant bite and seemed fairly pleased with the flavor, nodding for Jessica to try some of hers. She did the same, and to her surprise, it was actually quite tasty. His ‘ _little_ spicy’ was an understatement and a half, but that was an improvement as far as she was concerned.

“I’ll be damned,” she said. “This is actually really good.”

Jeremy’s expression brightened immediately. “Really?” He cleared his throat and tried again with a more level tone. “I mean, I’m glad you like it. I’ve always liked curries but they always seemed so intimidating to make. I guess that goes to show it’s always worth a try, right?” The man paused and stared down into his bowl, fidgeting with an onion on the end of the fork. For someone as capable in mind and body as he was, his timidness in certain social situations always seemed an odd juxtaposition to Jessica.

“Speaking of giving things a try,” he began again, still fiddling with the slice of onion, “that winter gala Commander O’Malley has been planning is coming up soon. I was, uh, hoping you’d go with me.” He looked up, optimistic, but hesitant. “In an official kind of way.”

Jessica choked on her wine. “Official?” she asked, slightly alarmed. A thousand images raced through her head, pleasant and otherwise. She’d been with her fair share of men, but she hadn’t been “official” with anyone in quite some time. Now here she was, genuinely interested in pursuing a relationship with someone who clearly wanted the same from her, and there was only the slightest problem of him being her leading suspect in a case of treason against the Federation. She wanted to shout yes at the top of her lungs and hide away in her own quarters at the same time, but instead, she found herself sitting frozen in place.

Similarly caught in a frenzy of emotional thoughts, Jeremy sat across the table from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean, it’s been a few weeks now, and I thought that maybe this would be a nice opportunity to test the waters with the rest of the crew…” he trailed off, seemingly torn between completing the thought and leaving off on a positive note. “Unless you aren’t thinking we’re at that point… Yet.” He added the last word as if it was suddenly just out of reach.

She reached out and gently took hold of his hand, which had been slowly mutilating a helpless piece of onion with the fork. “No, that’s not what I... it’s just been a long day, and you caught me by surprise. I’d like to go with you, really.”

He met her gaze with a hesitant but relieved smile as he turned his palm to squeeze her hand. “Then it’s a date.” They held hands for a moment more before returning to their meals. After several bites, Jeremy spoke up again. “What’s been on your mind that has you so distracted? I’ve seen you bring work home before but never like this.”

_Oh, it’s just the usual_ , she thought. _Tracking down a double agent on a Starfleet vessel that’s part of a conspiracy to sabotage our mission. Wondering if the person trying to kill us is my commanding officer who I’m slowly starting to like, or if the man I’m falling for is manipulating me to cover his tracks and betray me when I’m most vulnerable._ She looked down at the curry, suddenly losing her appetite. _All it would take would be a drug in the food. A couple bites and I’m out cold, or worse. I suppose it’s too late for that, though._

“Nothing important, really,” she said. “Helping Naazt with some power issues, tracking down a few missing tools... it’s just been piling up lately.”

Jeremy opened his mouth as if to press the subject before changing his mind at the last second and taking another bite of curry instead. “I heard about the power failure the other day,” he responded sympathetically. “Hopefully, it was a quick and easy fix. If there’s anything I can do to make things less stressful for you, all you have to do is say the word.” He paused, and Jessica could feel the wisecrack coming before the words left his mouth. “Unless that word is ‘chocolate,’ because the last time I tried to make a dessert, I nearly blew a hole in the bulkhead. I’m no chemist, but I’m pretty sure soufflés aren’t supposed to do that.”

This time her laugh was genuine, and for all her lingering doubts she couldn’t help but lose herself in his obnoxious grin. “Well,” she began, her mouth turning up in a mischievous smirk, “there might be _one_ thing you could do to help me relax.” Maybe he was the traitor, maybe he’d be trying to kill her tomorrow, and maybe she’d be the one trying to kill him, but at that moment she just didn’t care. She took a long drink of wine and let her shoulders relax. _There’s no chance I’m getting any sleep tonight, so I may as well enjoy it._


	13. Chapter 13

“Okay David, let’s try this again.” _Babel_ ’s former helmsman sat alone in his bedroom, staring at the pair of dumbells at his feet. Even looking at them made him sick. _They’re two kilos each. That’s nothing! Why can’t I do this?_ He tightened his grip on the weights, took a deep breath, and heaved with all of his strength. They moved, if erratically, but his muscles obeyed him. Then he felt a spasm in his left bicep, and the weight slipped from his grasp as if it were coated in oil. He lurched toward it as it fell to the floor, only to lose the other one in the process. He wanted to be angry. Just a week ago he’d still been able to summon a spark of anger at his failure, one of his last remaining emotions. Now, he just felt empty.  
  
 _“Why don’t you stop by Commander O’Malley’s party this week? Just being around the rest of the crew is a good start. You don’t have to know what to say or what to do. Just be yourself and accept that that’s enough.”_ Lieutenant Barnes’ words echoed in his head.  
  
“Just be myself? That’s good enough? I’m barely good enough to be wheeled around as a sob story for some FNS reporter.”  
  
He forced himself up, leaning heavily on the side of the bed until he stood unsteadily in the center of the room. He decided a drink might help, if only to take the edge off of the constant aching pain he’d felt for the past month, and started to walk to the living room to reach the replicator. On his third step, his right leg gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. He sat up slowly and glared at the braces in the corner of the room.  
  
“I don’t need you, you know? I don’t need help to move my own fucking legs!”  
  
He pulled himself to the dresser and used it to pull himself to his feet again. Neatly folded and sitting on top of it was his uniform, black and red with a Starfleet combadge resting on top. The single gold rank pip on the collar seemed to mock him with its presence. _This is what you could have been,_ it seemed to say, right in front of him yet further from his reach than it had ever been. _This is what you once were before that madman took it all away._  
  
“It wasn’t him,” he replied, all too aware he was now talking to the imagined voice of his own uniform. “It was me. I did this to myself. I was flying the shuttle, and I got us shot down. When we were captured, _I_ was the one who fought back. _I_ made him torture me, over and over again until he broke me beyond repair. I made the decision to be Renetta’s shield when she never asked it of me. I only got what I deserved.”  
  
He stared at the combadge again and thought about the winter gala. He’d been asked to go, and the crew would expect him there with something to put on the tree, like everyone else. When the party was done, though, he didn’t expect to be taking his offering back.


	14. Chapter 14

“Koltak, no!” Renetta laughed, grimacing as she stood beside her Gliesian friend who, when seated in a chair, was almost at eye-level with the short woman.  
  
“What?” Koltak’s cranial frills flared and flattened as they spun in their chair to face Renetta and Thriss, who stood behind their human friend.  
  
“There is no way you’re wearing a yellow suit to the gala!”  
  
“Excuse you,” Thriss interjected, tugging at her uniform with an air of mock offense. “What’s wrong with gold suits?”  
  
“You’re a different shade of blue, and your uniform is gold, not yellow,” she waved a hand dismissively at the Andorian woman as she began to laugh along with Renetta, who had turned her attention back to the computer screen. “ _That_ shade of yellow would make you look too green.”  
  
“What’s wrong with looking green?” Koltak asked with a frown, genuinely baffled as they reached up to touch the viridescent crests along the back of their skull. “You change colors all the time. At least I can do more than turn seventeen shades of pink.”  
  
“I think what she’s getting at is that it’s not the most flattering color you could have picked,” Thriss clarified, taking control of the digital catalog on the display and adjusting the hue of the fabric to a light, silvery purple. “There. That ought to highlight more of your base skin tone, and if you want to incorporate some green, we can change the sash to a lighter shade.”  
  
Renetta’s laughter faded abruptly as she glanced between the monitor and Thriss, shocked. “Since when do you design clothes?”  
  
The Andorian woman shrugged. “I don’t, but it doesn’t take a pair of tetrachromatic eyes to put a few complimenting colors together.” She took a step toward the computer they’d taken over in the corner of the ship’s replicator room. On a normal starship, the room would typically have been used for replicating larger items and greater quantities of singular items. In this case, the trio wanted a little extra space for themselves.  
  
Thriss shooed the Gliesian out of the seat as she reached across the station and hit the button to begin replication. “Alright, my turn.”  
  
“Are you also planning to wear a suit?” Koltak asked, unfolding their long legs to tower over the two women.  
  
“Pfth, _no_ ,” Thriss snorted, sitting down and opening the main page of the clothing catalog. “I wear a suit all day. The last thing I want when I get out of one pair of pants is to put another pair on.”  
  
“Do they make anything that wouldn’t be a mini skirt on you?” Renetta said, her laughter redoubling at the thought of Thriss in a comically short dress.  
  
Her life had been a series of highs and lows over the past few weeks, but now more than ever, Renetta counted herself lucky to have Koltak and Thriss by her side. The three had become near-inseparable companions in the months since their voyage began, despite having wildly different backgrounds and personalities. Thriss had helped Renetta find a sense of self-confidence she never knew she had, and the two of them together had helped bring Koltak’s personality to the surface. Preparing for a celebration of gratitude as a trio was the perfect distraction and the ultimate salve for a hurting spirit.  
  
“The replicators can easily accommodate _my_ dimensions,” Koltak attempted to explain, missing the joke. Before they could continue, Thriss cut in.  
  
“At least I get more than half a meter of fabric between my neck and my knees, Tiny. We could put you in a pillowcase and call it a ballgown.”  
  
“Hey, I resent that!” Renetta squeaked, socking Thriss lightly in the shoulder.  
  
The two of them shared a laugh while Koltak stood by, confused. “Explain something to me,” the Gliesian insisted as the laughter died down again. “Why is it funny to insult one another?”  
  
“It’s just like any other joke. We laugh because we know nobody means any harm by it,” Thriss explained. Renetta could tell by the look on Koltak’s face that they didn’t entirely get it.  
  
“I suppose it’s something else I’ll have to come to understand with time.”  
  
“Ooh!” Thriss commandeered the group’s attention as she pulled up a classy wrap-style dress that came to just above the knee. “What about this? I was thinking in a deep pink or purple.”  
  
“That would look nice,” Renetta agreed, nodding. “Koltak, what do you think? Pink or purple?”  
  
Koltak crouched beside the chair, bringing their head level with Thriss’s once their knees were on the ground. “What kind of pink or purple?”  
  
“I don’t know, maybe a magenta or an orchid--”  
  
“No,” Koltak stated bluntly, pushing the wheeled chair out of the way and commandeering the console.  
  
“Hey!” the Andorian woman cried out as she drifted away from the computer.  
  
Renetta started giggling again.  
  
“Orchid is too light and would too closely match some of the blemishes on your skin,” Koltak began, opening up the color wheel on the screen as Thriss protested. “Magenta could work, but it’s too vivid. You would look like…” They turned to Renetta for help, “what’s something awkward and colorful?”  
  
“Uh, a painting?”  
  
“Less pretty than a painting.”  
  
“Excuse me!” Thriss blurted, through her laughter, “I’m right here!”  
  
“A _bad_ painting?”  
  
“Sure.” Koltak shook their colorful head and continued. “Regardless, it’s the wrong shade. Might I suggest this one.” It was less of a question and more of a command as their alien friend pressed the “replicate” button before Thriss had a chance to approve of the changes made to her garment.  
  
“Wow, just pick out my whole wardrobe, why don’t you?” Thriss sassed as she stood up and pushed the chair into the back of Renetta’s knees, dropping her into the seat involuntarily.  
  
“It’s what you did to me,” Koltak said with a shrug, standing up. “Humor, right? Or, if nothing else, fairness.”  
  
Thriss rolled her eyes and wheeled Renetta to the computer. “Yeah, we’ll call it even. You’re up, Tiny.”  
  
“Oh, I won’t be long,” Renetta stated confidently. She was straightforward when it came to fashion, one glance in her closet would tell anyone that much. She pulled up a simple, straight dress in navy blue and was about to set it to replicate when Thriss and Koltak both seized her arm. “What!”  
  
“You can’t wear blue,” Thriss said.  
  
“You wear it every day already,” Koltak added.  
  
The woman’s jaw dropped. “That might be the most hypocritical thing I’ve heard in my entire _life_!” She snatched her arm back. “What am I supposed to wear?”  
  
“Not blue,” Koltak asserted.  
  
“Thanks, that really clears things up,” the small woman responded flatly.  
  
“Why don’t you try something more colorful?” the Andorian woman suggested, pulling up the color selector.  
  
“Last I checked, blue was a color!”  
  
Through some unspoken mutual agreement, her two tall compatriots cut Renetta out of the conversation entirely and began talking over her in a painfully literal sense.  
  
“I’ve never seen her in anything vibrant, have you?” Thriss asked, hunching over the chair where Renetta sat, arms folded across her chest and an indignant look plastered across her face.  
  
“No, though I don’t understand why,” Koltak mimicked the Andorian woman’s posture. “Her dark hair would offset it fantastically. You have no _idea_ how many colors are in your plain ‘black.’”  
  
“Uh, yes I do. Just because I’m chromatically blind compared to you doesn’t mean I don’t understand how colors _work_.” Thriss selected a playful shade of spring green. “How about that one?”  
  
“More blue.”  
  
“I thought we just said no blue!”  
  
“ _More blue._ ”  
  
She rolled her eyes and adjusted the color. “Like that?”  
  
“More yellow.”  
  
She adjusted the color again. “How about that?”  
  
“Just--” Koltak huffed impatiently. “Move. Let me.” They poked at several colors before finding a hue that pleased them. “There. Thoughts?”  
  
“Oh, do I get to weigh in now?” Renetta asked contemptuously, though her smile betrayed her tone. Her two friends stepped aside so she could see the screen. Their choice of a simple fit-and-flare style dress in a shockingly bright shade of peacock green was certainly not something she would have ever picked for herself. “I have to admit, I don’t hate it.”  
  
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me!” Thriss pressed the button to finalize the design and a replicator hummed to life. “Shall we collect our things and get something to eat?”  
  
“Will I get to choose my own food?” Koltak asked, failing to hide an anticipatory smile.  
  
“Only if you don’t try to tell me what color it is,” Renetta responded with a smile, and all three of them laughed.  
  
Koltak beamed proudly. “I think I can manage that.”


	15. Chapter 15

Jessica made her way back to her own quarters in the morning with just enough time to take a sonic shower and get dressed before Naazt arrived. She ushered him in and gestured for him to take a seat on the couch.  
  
“Sorry about the mess,” she said. “I haven’t had a lot of time outside of the investigation.”  
  
“No apology necessary, Lieutenant,” the engineer replied. “We’ve both been busy. And at least in my case, productive.”  
  
She stopped in her tracks as the replicator finished her morning raktajino. “You found something? Well, spit it out already!”  
  
“Our saboteur is an engineer,” he said gravely, confident but very clearly disappointed that the problem came from within his team.  
  
“How can you tell?” Jessica pulled up a chair opposite him and waited intently. _If one of the engineers is the culprit, we could be in a lot of trouble,_ she thought _. But at least that means it isn’t Jeremy._  
  
Naazt pulled up a series of diagrams on his PADD, pointing out several systems and locations she didn’t recognize. “I reviewed the maintenance logs last night, trying to figure out who would have been responsible for the areas that broke down. Take a look here at this report. ‘Deck Eleven, Conduit Forty-Seven-Alpha.'"  
  
She scanned the screen intently until she saw it. "Maintenance complete, signed off by Lieutenant Naazt, Chief of Engineering." She looked back at him. "I take it you _didn't_ do the maintenance on that conduit?"  
  
The Tellarite glowered. "I did not. Nor did I do the maintenance the logs say I did on sixteen other systems over the last two months. So I checked the maintenance schedules for every day since we departed, and they match the logs. Someone has been altering my schedules to hide the work they've been doing. Only I have the clearance to do that, but a skilled engineer could hack it together and cover their tracks.”  
  
Jessica wasn’t convinced. “Could there be people outside of engineering with the computer skills to do that?”  
  
Naazt nodded. “Sure, but none of them could have done the damage our saboteur did. When I saw the list of areas covered by the forged maintenance logs, I got curious. So I went deck by deck, checking them for myself. That’s where I found these.”  
  
He reached into the toolkit that never seemed to leave his side and pulled out a handful of small, metallic chips.  
  
“What are they?” she asked.  
  
“I’m not sure,” he answered. “They’re highly advanced, whatever they are. A tricorder scan can’t tell much more than that they contain an independent power source. I suspect that they’re designed to shut down or damage our power flow. A device like this may have been behind the power loss in Deck Eleven but destroyed itself in the process. If they were all activated at once, _Babel_ could have been left drifting in space.”  
  
“A helpless target for whoever came along to find us,” Jessica finished. “Tell me then, who on your team could have done this?”  
  
He shook his head. “Any of them, in all likelihood. But none of them knew about the change in course or the foreign signal.”  
  
“Then they had an accomplice. Someone on the bridge or in the senior staff feeding them information, who gave them the signal to cut power to the sensor pod as soon as we needed it.”  
  
“Agreed. Which means we now have a lot more suspects.”  
  
Jessica sat quietly, trying to piece together the puzzle in her mind. _Babel_ was just a day away from the source of the signal, the one almost certainly sent by the _Dauntless_. The gala event was tonight and would have most of the crew away from their duties. The ship itself would be at its most vulnerable right when their culprit needed it to be. _The timing can’t be a coincidence,_ she thought. _And this was all Commander O’Malley’s idea._  
  
“Naazt, I want you to find out who in engineering is responsible. Since you took away their toys, they’ll be scrambling to get a backup in place before tonight. I’ll find our ringleader and take her down.”


	16. Chapter 16

Thriss glanced at the computer display on the corridor wall. _Still an hour before my shift starts. Plenty of time._ She’d certainly been surprised at Lieutenant Johnson’s offer to cover the last hour of her shift in order to give her time to get ready for the gala, and she’d happily accepted the offer, even if it would cost her an agonizingly long day tomorrow. It had taken her nearly an hour with Renetta’s help just to get her look for the party right the day before, and she was determined not to lose any time fussing with her appearance tonight. Still, there were worse things to be worried about than uncooperatively short hair, not the least of which was the wellbeing of a good friend.  
  
She reached the door to David’s quarters on Deck Three and rang the chime. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer. She rang again.  
  
“Go away,” came the ensign’s muffled voice.  
  
“That’s no way to talk to a friend,” she answered. She waited in silence for another thirty seconds, then rang the chime again. “I’m not going away until you open the door, and I promise, I can be _very_ annoying when I want to.” She pressed the chime again for emphasis.  
  
“I don’t want to see anyone right now,” David replied.  
  
Thriss jammed her thumb against the door chime and held it in place. “That’s exactly why you _need_ to, idiot.”  
  
Another thirty seconds passed, and she heard him begin to move. Something made a loud clatter on the opposite side of the door, and she could faintly make out the sound of swearing just before the door opened.  
  
“Hi, Thriss,” David said weakly. He was disheveled, his messy hair hanging down just over his remaining eye, which was sunken and hollow. He leaned on the doorframe for support, in part because of the damage to his motor control, and in part because of just how much muscle mass he’d lost over the past month. If David had been thin and lean before the accident, he was nearly skeletal now.  
  
“You look like hell,” she said, careful not to give him anything but the blanket truth.  
  
“I feel worse,” he replied.  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
Reluctantly, he nodded. “If you must.”  
  
The first thing she did as she entered the room was turn the lights up to their full brightness, making David flinch and exposing the real state of his quarters. Clothes were strewn about the floor, a book lay open and face down next to the coffee table, and three plates of half-eaten food sat abandoned on the kitchen counter. Muttering to herself, Thriss began collecting the clothes off the floor.  
  
“What are you doing?” David asked.  
  
“ _Someone_ has to take care of this mess,” she answered, “and it apparently isn’t going to be you.”  
  
“I can clean my own room, you know.”  
  
“Really?” she asked, tossing the clothes into the hamper in the other room. “And when were you going to get around to that?”  
  
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been a little preoccupied,” he snapped back.  
  
“Oh, that’s right, you’ve been busy _sulking_. I’m sorry, I completely forgot. I’m sure ‘get my act together and start showing my face around the people I care about’ was next on your to-do list.”  
  
“I didn’t ask for you to barge in and berate me, Thriss.”  
  
This time she rounded on him. “And I didn’t ask to lose a friend to his own self-pity! We’ve _missed_ you, you know?”  
  
David folded his arms across his chest and didn’t meet her eye. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”  
  
Her arm was swinging before she could stop herself, and her open hand slapped him across the face. He slumped down to the floor in the corner of the room, and she felt white-hot tears roll down her face.  
  
“How dare you? I thought you died down there. I _watched_ as the bastard who took you both got away, and I _swore_ I’d hunt him down and kill him if I had to steal a shuttle to do it. I would have done _anything_ to get the two of you back, and then... then you were alive, and they were bringing you home. In a heartbeat, I got two of my best friends back from the dead. Do you know what I did then? I cried. I cried like a child in front of the entire bridge, because my friends were going to live after I’d given up hope. That was nothing short of a miracle, no matter what happened to you. The Captain and the others risked their lives to get you back, and Doctor Dupont saved your life. Is _this_ how you’re going to repay them?”  
  
David glared back up at her. “You don’t understand what it’s like. I can’t even stand without help, let alone walk, or do anything useful.”  
  
Thriss let herself calm down, unclench her fists, and breathe. She wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve and lowered her voice. “You don’t need to be _useful_ right now, David. Just be alive. Seeing you hide like this, wasting away... it’s like losing you a second time. I won’t let you do that.”  
  
She offered him a hand, and he took it gingerly. She lifted him to his feet and noticed again how much he really had wasted away over the past month. She put an arm around his shoulder. “I know it’s not easy. Renetta hid, too, for a while, and only just started to come out of her shell. She worries about you.”  
  
“She’s afraid of me,” he answered, looking away from her.  
  
“She’s afraid of a lot of things, herself included. Neither of you is to blame for what happened. Thinking otherwise just plays into his hands.”  
  
He turned, slowly, and looked at her. He was trembling. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Every time I make a hint of progress, I fall further back than where I started. I can’t walk, I can’t move... if I want to drink a glass of water I clutch it tight with both hands like a toddler, praying I don’t let it fall and break again. I tried to eat in the mess hall two weeks ago and people looked at me like I was some kind of freak.”  
  
Thriss felt a flash of anger again, this time for the way she knew he’d been treated. People _did_ want to help, she knew that, but that didn’t stop them from staring at both of the former captives any time they entered a room. If that look of shock and pity had been directed at her, she knew it would’ve ended with a trip to sickbay for the offender.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she managed. “They’ll stop, in time. And there’s plenty of us who’ll just be happy to see you. Will you come to the gala tonight? Even just for a little while?”  
  
David nodded. “I’ll be there.”


	17. Chapter 17

Naazt strode into Main Engineering with purpose. Giving a brisk nod to the engineers on duty, he stopped at the Master Systems Display, which most engineers referred to as the ‘MSD’ or the ‘pool table,’ depending on the presence of nearby ranking officers. Entering a series of commands, he brought up the status of the EPS grid for every deck on the vessel and began to look for clues.  
  
“Can I help you, sir?” asked a Caitian crewman nearby.  
  
“Just doing some independent auditing, Crewman,” he replied. “Don’t let me interfere with your work.”  
  
The man nodded and made himself scarce. One of the many benefits of being a Tellarite officer, Naazt had noted over the years, was that his brusque manner tended to keep his subordinates busy, to the point, and most importantly, away from his own work. There were exceptions, of course, like Johnson and Thriss, his top two officers in the department, who tended to poke their noses into business that wasn’t theirs, but the vast majority of his team followed his commands to the letter. _Starfleet needs more engineers like those two,_ he thought absently. _They may annoy me, but they work hard, learn quickly, and don’t accept shoddy work. He ran a hand through his beard as he checked another deck on the display. I suppose that means they’re at the top of my suspect list, though. That’s a shame._  
  
As he continued his analysis, he was both pleased to see that the saucer section was free of any additional tampering and annoyed at not having found the saboteur. He began to check each deck of the secondary hull when an abrupt power surge lit up on the display.  
  
“What in the name of Miracht?”  
  
His hands raced across the controls, and it took him just seconds to find the source of the surge: The main deflector array. If he hadn’t been staring at the display right as the surge occurred, it would almost certainly have gone undetected.  
  
“That can’t be good,” he grumbled, grabbing his toolkit. Two crewmen started to ask him questions as he entered the Jefferies tube, but he ignored them and started climbing.  
  
Minutes later, he emerged a deck above where he’d started, right behind the deflector array. Immediately, he reached for his tricorder and began the search. The ship was still traveling at warp, so no immediate damage had been done, but that didn’t stop him from being paranoid. His first scans came back normal, and he almost considered chalking the surge up to a subspace eddy, not unlike hitting a strange current at sea. Curiosity urged him onward, though, and he popped off a panel behind the deflector control station. The panel came off easily, and Naazt did not like what he saw.  
  
“I hate being right,” he muttered. The wiring was a mess, and all of it linked up to a single piece of hardware. He recognized the explosive as a simple infernite device: Easy to create on the fly and easy to wire. Unfortunately, disarming the element was far less simple. He searched for a triggering device or something that would accept whatever remote signal would start the detonation and drag them out of warp and was surprised to see it wired into the deflector system itself. The explosive wasn’t waiting for an input, it was waiting for a lack of one. More specifically, it would detonate the moment Babel came out of warp, and it would take the entire deflector system offline. The ship would be without shields and unable to flee at warp.  
  
He tapped his combadge. “Naazt to-”  
  
He felt a heavy object connect with the back of his head, and everything went dark.


	18. Chapter 18

“These table decorations look lovely, but don’t you think they’re a little bit… Obstructive?” Shannon asked Hob, picking up a small vase of white, blue, and green flowers from the center of a small dining table near the bar.  
  
“It’s not a workstation, Commander, it’s a banquet table.” The older man took the delicate centerpiece in his dark, leathery fingers and gently set it back into place, straightening it with care. “The purpose of decorations is to look appealing when they’re first set out. I guarantee you most if not all of these table settings will be completely rearranged by the end of the night, and at least a few centerpieces will end up in various attendees’ personal quarters.”  
  
The First Officer sighed and ran a frustrated hand through her long ginger locks, which had long since been removed from their military confines of a tight bun. “It all seems so counterproductive.”  
  
“I believe that’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve made that remark.”  
  
“I’m sorry, it’s just--”  
  
“The fourth or fifth time, _today_.” Hob rolled his eyes and chuckled quietly. “You Starfleet lot are so caught up in precision and preservation that you can’t let go of your methods long enough to enjoy something simple. It’s a party, Commander. Chaos is a sign of success.”  
  
Shannon sighed. “Fair enough.” _Goodness knows there’s been enough chaos involved in this whole process to last us the duration of the gala and then some._  
  
The banquet hall doors were propped open to allow seamless passage of the catering staff in and out of the room. The flow of traffic had moved in a continuous, steady stream all morning, but out of the corner of her eye, Shannon noticed as a figure appeared and stopped in the open doorway with an unmistakable presence. _Oh boy._  
  
“Commander, I need to speak with you,” Lieutenant Barnes called from just inside the room, forcing the waitstaff to weave around her.  
  
Shannon excused herself from her conversation with Hob and walked toward the entrance. As she drew nearer, Jessica’s aura of “I have bad news that’s going to ruin your day” became almost stifling. “Yes, Lieutenant?” she asked her Chief of Security, trying not to sound too preemptively exhausted.  
  
“I need to speak with you privately,” Jessica clarified crisply. “Come with me.”  
  
The two exited into the hall and walked a ways down the deck to a dead-end corridor containing a couple of holosuites. Jessica ushered Shannon past and into the recesses of the hall before stepping behind her to block the XO’s path.  
  
“Been busy lately?” Lieutenant Barnes inquired, her question loaded with intent Shannon didn’t understand.  
  
“Yes?” She lifted a red eyebrow. “In case you haven’t heard, I’ve been planning a rather sizeable party.”  
  
“Of course I’ve heard. It’s my job to hear things, Commander, including talk of potential problems in our midst.”  
  
“I thought we’d fixed the faulty EPS conduits…?”  
  
“We repaired the one that blew. Thankfully, we shouldn’t have to fix any others since we removed the rest of the devices you set to take out the power grid.”  
  
Shannon’s other eyebrow rose to meet the first. “Devices? Jess, what are you talking about?”  
  
“Don’t play dumb with me, _Commander_ ,” she spat the word out as if it were an insult. “We’ve been on the trail of you and your compatriot for some time now. Staging a gala at the perfect time to act as one massive diversion while you staged your coup and relieved Captain Murali of duty? Clever, but too obvious. Maybe next time you decide you want to rocket through the ranks, you ought to be a little more subtle about it.”  
  
“Jess, what the hell are you talking about?!” Shannon shouted, stepping forward in an attempt to return to the banquet room. “I have work to do. If you want to play detective, maybe pick a less inconvenient time or get yourself a holonovel.”  
  
The dark-haired woman stepped in front of her commanding officer and blocked the woman’s path. “I’m sure you’d love to get back to work, but I’m here to relieve _you_ of duty, _sir_.”  
  
“Like hell you are!” Shannon tried to shove her Chief of Security out of the way, remembering too late that it was a fruitless effort as Jessica leveraged the push against Shannon, sending her sideways into the wall with a loud thud. The redhead looked up, her temper rising, and got properly to her feet. “Let me through or I’m calling security.”  
  
“I _am_ security.”  
  
Shannon’s mind raced as her second officer glared down at her. _What the hell is going on?_ Then, she heard another pair of footsteps round the corner.  
  
“You know, I thought this job would be far more difficult,” came a third woman’s voice from behind them. Shannon peered around Jessica as the Security Chief turned around to face the newcomer. “I suppose I underestimated just how much the two of you hated one another.”  
  
“Kase, what are you doing down here?” Commander O’Malley asked, finally pushing past Jessica, bringing the ensign’s phaser into view.  
  
“Just doing my job, sir.” Ensign Kase flashed a charming smile as she pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession, sending a thin beam of energy into the center of mass of both Jessica and Shannon.  
  
Jessica crumpled to the ground, and Shannon fell beside her, gasping for air. Her vision grew hazy, and the sound of Ensign Kase’s voice grew muffled. She made out just the last few words as the woman spoke to someone behind her.  
  
 _“-ready for you now, sir.”_  
  
In the split second before unconsciousness took hold of her paralyzed body, Shannon saw a tall, red-haired woman with fair skin and a familiar face step into view and stand behind Kase. Not a familiar face. _Her_ face. The doppelganger, clad in a red Starfleet uniform matching her own, looked down at her, her face twisted in scorn.  
  
“What a waste,” the newcomer spat, and Shannon’s vision went black.


	19. Chapter 19

Hands trembling, David finally managed the last button on his shirt. It had taken him hours, and he’d fallen twice, but he’d at least managed to make himself look presentable. He checked the mirror for the fourth time, still uncomfortable with his new reflection. His hair was combed and his stubble shaved, and if it weren’t for the eyepatch covering the largest of his physical scars, he’d almost have said he looked good. Almost. He was still gaunt, overly pale, and thin as a reed, and leaning on the clunky braces he needed to walk gave him a hunched posture that gave away how weak he still was.  
  
“Breathe, David,” he told himself. “Just breathe. It’s a party, not a battle.”  
  
In a way, though, it was the biggest battle he’d fought in a month. Jessica and Thriss were right, he’d been hiding for too long. His Starfleet days might be behind him, but that was no excuse to waste away in his room. He owed it to the crew, at least, to let them know.  
  
It took him half an hour to get to the banquet hall, moving as quickly as he dared on his own legs with just the braces for support. The halls were blissfully empty as he moved, the crew either still on duty, already present at the gala, or planning to be fashionably late. When he finally entered the banquet room, he was shocked at what he saw.  
  
The room, which had been used as largely empty storage overflow space, was now bathed in a deep indigo light with a gently-swaying forest of holographic, snow-white pine trees circling the walls. Tables had been arranged around the room in a tasteful manner, each one decorated with one of several small natural centerpieces and votives. Overhead hung a chandelier of flickering candles, but the focal element of the room was a grand evergreen, decorated with lights, ornaments representative of countless cultures, and the personal contributions of the gala’s attendees. It was a breathtaking sight to behold, like nothing he’d ever seen before.  
  
“Not bad, don’t you think?”  
  
David spun, nearly losing his balance, to face the newcomer. The man was as pale as he was, with dark hair and a sharply curved nose. Unlike most of the attendees, he was still in his gold duty uniform. David gave him a weak smile. “They really went all out, didn’t they?”  
  
The man smirked. “That they did. It sounds like most of the ship will be here. Should be good fun. As long as the bar stays open, at least.” He paused, his eyes darting from David’s face to the braces on his back and legs. “You’re Ensign Brahms, right?”  
  
David rolled his eyes. “What gave it away, the eyepatch or the robot suit?”  
  
The man winced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m Jack, Jack Johnson. I work in engineering. I think I’ve seen you around a couple of times.”  
  
The awkwardness of the conversation started to fade into small talk, and soon they found themselves sitting at a table by the tree, drinks in hand.  
  
“How are things going?” Jack asked, gesturing at the mechanical braces. “You know, with your recovery and all.”  
  
David grimaced. He should have known that the topic of conversation all night was going to be the ‘incident’ and how he was feeling. He knew Jack must have meant well by it, but every mention of the braces, the crash, or their imprisonment twisted the little knot in his stomach, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to be back in his own room.  
  
“It’s slow,” he managed. “The doctor says I may get most of my motor control back with time. The eye’s a lost cause, though.”  
  
Jack stared down into his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure when we get the alien bastard, we’ll make him pay for you.”  
  
David looked back at him. “Will that make me better? Let me fly again?”  
  
The engineer looked confused. “Well, no, I suppose.”  
  
“Then why does it matter? He’s gone, and I don’t care if we ever see him again. What’s done is done.”  
  
Jack shook his head. “If you say so, kid. I don’t know that I could ever let something like that go.” He stood from his chair. “I’m going to grab another drink, you want something?”  
  
David waved him off. “No, go enjoy yourself. I need to see to something anyway.”  
  
As the man walked off to the bar, David pulled himself carefully to his feet. He took a few unsteady steps until he gained his balance, then made his way to the tree. Up close it was even more impressive than when he’d first walked in. Towering up as high as the vaulted ceiling, it was decked out with ornaments from what felt like every world in the Federation, and in more colors than he’d thought existed. Mixed in with the ornaments put up by Hob’s team and Commander O’Malley were dozens of items left by the crew, from family photos to trinkets from their homeworlds. When she had announced the gala, Shannon had asked everyone to bring one item, large or small, that meant something to them, and leave it as a decoration on or under the tree in the style of Earth’s Christmas tradition. David walked around the tree until he found an empty cluster of branches, just below elbow height. He reached down into his pocket and retrieved his Starfleet combadge with unsteady hands. Carefully, he nestled it among the pine needles and stepped away.  
  
“That’s it, then,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll let the Captain know in the morning. My Starfleet career is done.”


	20. Chapter 20

Renetta led the way down the hall, feeling surprisingly upbeat as she, Koltak, and Thriss headed for the banquet hall. Slung over her arm was her decoration for the tree, half of a pair of offerings that she and Thriss had come up with together. Koltak carried a shimmering dark green seashell that would no doubt catch the attention of party guests, even if no one besides the two of them knew what it was. To top off her latent excitement about going to a holiday party, she’d caught wind from several people around the ship that the decorations were absolutely exquisite. Looking down at the dress her friends had picked out for her, Renetta had an unsinkable feeling that this evening would be a memorable one.  
  
The doors parted to a jaw-dropping spectacle of a room. Low lights flickered around the massive space, and the interior of their ship transformed into a fantasy land out of her wildest dreams in the space of a single threshold. Of the three of them, Koltak seemed to be taken aback the most. The blue-violet lights that illuminated the shadows played whimsically off of the subtle colors of Koltak’s suit. _If it looks this beautiful to me_ , Renetta thought, _it must look incredible to them._  
  
Another pair of guests attempted to squeeze past the small group, wedging themselves as politely as possible between the two large bodies and the doorway. Thriss was the first to snap out of the awestruck stupor.  
  
“We should probably decide whether we want to be in the room or in the hallway,” she said, gently pushing Renetta and Koltak into the banquet hall and out of the way of oncoming traffic. As soon as they were reasonably out of the way, she went right back to taking it all in with them. “It really is quite a sight though.”  
  
After several minutes of gawking, Renetta finally managed to tear her attention away from the decor to sweep the room for familiar faces. Most of the guests were either gathered around the tree or hovering around one of the several buffet tables. A few loitered around dining areas in small clusters, mingling casually as they ate. Through all the activity in the room, Renetta couldn’t help but feel she was being watched. She looked around and eventually found the source of the gaze. A single eye met hers from across the room and her heart sank.  
  
 _My god, he looks so… empty_. The joy she’d felt seeped out of her as they watched each other in silence. _I’ve never seen him so broken, and it’s all my fault. What have I done to him?_  
  
The sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder made Renetta jump. “Do you want to go put our things on the tree and grab some food?” Thriss asked, missing a beat halfway through her sentence as she tried to see whatever it was Renetta had just been looking at.  
  
“Y-yeah, sure.” She glanced back across the room, but the crowd had shifted, blocking her view of the table David had been sitting at, if he was still there.  
  
She put a toned blue arm around the young woman’s shoulders and pulled her along, into the growing throng of partygoers with Koltak taking up her other flank like a giant protective shield. “You look like you saw a ghost.”  
  
Renetta responded quietly, “I almost feel like I did.”  
  
“Isn’t there a human Christmas story involving ghosts? Perhaps it’s another one of the Commander’s decorative elements.” Koltak inferred, oblivious as usual to the subtext of the conversation.  
  
Renetta’s head spun to face the Gliesian, her train of thought thoroughly jarred from its previous course. “Since when do you read Charles Dickens?”  
  
“I took some electives on classic Federation literature in my studies,” Koltak replied, seemingly startled by the accusatory tone Renetta had woven into her question. “It seemed like a reasonable way to understand more about the cultures I’d be working alongside.”  
  
“Huh,” Renetta hiccuped, forcing levity back into her voice. “Color me impressed.”  
  
“Speaking of the Commander,” Thriss interjected, using her height to her advantage as she scanned the room, “I’m a little surprised that she’s not here. She struck me as the hostessing type.”  
  
Renetta shrugged. “Maybe she had to step out for a minute.”  
  
“You’re probably right.”  
  
The trio arrived at the massive tree, which was already loaded with items brought in by guests. Renetta stared into the branches and frowned. “There’s no room.”  
  
Koltak gestured to the branches in front of them. “There is up here.”  
  
As Thriss set to work tucking her jersey into the tree a little over two meters from the base and Koltak tucked their shell carefully into the branches at least half a meter above it, Renetta gasped.  
  
“Koltak, I have an idea!” Her incredibly tall Gliesian friend looked down at her and raised a brow ridge, one of the many facial expressions they’d been experimenting with lately. “Lift me up!”  
  
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Thriss groaned, shaking her head as Koltak obliged, hoisting Renetta up with ease as if she were a toddler. Gleefully, the small woman tucked her jersey into the middle branches of the six-meter-tall behemoth of a tree. Thriss rolled her eyes and smiled as she turned and started walking toward the nearest buffet table, waving dismissively over her shoulder. “You two are an absolute embarrassment to be around sometimes. I’m going over here before people realize I’m here with you.”  
  
The Gliesian set Renetta down gently, and she smoothed her skirt. “Thanks. There’s not a whole lot of room down here.” As she brushed at the hem of her dress, she noticed a combadge tucked into the tree. _I guess Starfleet means a lot to someone._ She took hold of Koltak’s arm and started walking off after Thriss. “We ought to get something to eat, too. I’m starving.”

  
***

  
The three of them found a small table in the back corner of the banquet hall that gave them a decent view of the crowd and some relative quiet in which they could enjoy their food with a side of conversation.  
  
“So, what was that gemstone you brought in, Koltak?” Thriss asked, taking a rather large bite of salad.  
  
The technicolor alien shook their head. “It wasn’t a gemstone, it was a seashell.”  
  
“It was a viridian-something,” Renetta inserted trying to remember the full name.  
  
“Bice,” Koltak answered.  
  
“It was beautiful. I never would have guessed it was a shell. Are they a common gift on your homeworld?”  
  
Koltak shook their head. “No, but it’s something that has sentimental value to me, so it seemed fitting for the occasion. The replicator didn’t do it justice, but I suppose it was an odd request.”  
  
“Do you have any new year traditions on Gliese?” Renetta asked, poking at something she’d picked up from the buffet more out of curiosity than appetite. It looked like a very large slug, but the sauce it’d been cooked in smelled tempting enough to overlook whatever “it” was.  
  
“There’s an annual ceasefire and blackout on the eve of the new year. It’s tradition for the brightest light at the dawn of the new year to be the Kylam Star. It’s not really a star, but its name comes from an old legend.”  
  
Renetta asked “what’s the legend” at the same time that Thriss asked “what is it?”  
  
Koltak glanced between the two of them, startled. “Well, firstly, it’s part of a chain of comets that are spaced out so that one of them is always visible during the change of the year. Second, the legend is a bit… lengthy.”  
  
Thriss gestured to the party. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere. Besides, I don’t hear you talk about your culture much.”  
  
“Very well,” Koltak sighed, suddenly seeming to wish they’d never entertained the initial question. “The long and short of the story of the Kylam star is that the people of Gliese were descended from two individuals whose sole job was to populate the planet with strong, capable offspring. The two forebears, Lys and Lam, got into an argument that ended in a bloody fight. Lys killed his mate, Lam, and was punished by the gods for his hateful deed. They merged the physical bodies of Lys and Lam into one being of two sexes and placed Lam’s spirit in the sky. Lys was given seed to bear and raise offspring alone. They were similarly cursed, given bodies in a state of in between and untameable tempers. Every year, on the anniversary of Lys’s crime, Lam’s spirit passed overhead to remind him of what he had done. The term ‘Kyla Lam’ or ‘Lam’s Spirit’ eventually got shortened to ‘Kylam.’ That’s what we honor at the dawn of every new year, and it is in Kylam’s honor that we stop fighting for a single night.”  
  
Renetta and Thriss sat in silence, absorbing the Gliesian creation tale that answered so many questions about their culture while simultaneously creating just as many more. The sound of a plate clattering to the floor somewhere nearby eventually shook them from their reticence.  
  
“Do you, uh, have a modern explanation for the periodicity of that comet cluster?” Thriss ventured after clearing her throat.  
  
Renetta loved a good mystery. “All I can think of is if a protoplanet had gotten knocked into an eccentric, nonplanar orbit and later impacted by--”  
  
Koltak cut her off. “Our scientists have agreed to leave the story unsolved to preserve our cultural heritage.”  
  
The answer disappointed Renetta, who managed to stop herself just short of announcing her disapproval out loud. “Have you ever wondered?” she asked instead.  
  
“On occasion,” Koltak shrugged. “It’s one of those things you just don’t ask.”  
  
“It’s a very… fitting story,” Thriss offered. “As far as creation myths go.”  
  
Koltak’s cranial frills flattened and their expression turned icy as they slowly rose from their seat and pushed in the chair. “I never said it was a myth.”  
  
Renetta and Thriss exchanged confused and concerned glances as the towering Gliesian turned and left the table without another word. _That was odd._  
  
“I guess they’re a little touchy about their ‘history,’” Thriss said stiffly, returning to her salad.  
  
“They’re a little touchy about a lot of things,” Renetta said sympathetically. “I don’t think they like talking about their home very much.”  
  
“That much, I can understand.”  
  
Renetta gave Thriss a curious look, and the Andorian woman shook her head.  
  
“One bizarre story about cultural tradition is more than enough for one night. Let’s just finish our food before it reaches room temperature and try to enjoy the night.”  
  
From an afternoon of anticipation and excitement to an evening of mixed emotions, Renetta felt like she’d been thrown into the back of a rogue shuttle and left with no one to operate the controls. _I think I’m going to need at least a few drinks to get close to enjoy much of anything at this rate_. She sighed and prodded at the strange slug-thing on her plate, forcing it onto her fork. _If I’m already at the bottom_ … she thought lifting it to her mouth. It had gotten cold, and the meat was tough and chewy. The young woman forced herself to swallow and immediately reached for her glass. _At least it can’t get any worse, right?_


	21. Chapter 21

Jeremy looked in the mirror and straightened his collar for the hundredth time since he donned the suit at least 45 minutes earlier. Despite the turtleneck-style collars of their uniforms, he always felt comfortable wearing them, but something about the suit he had on now, which had been perfectly replicated to fit his measurements, felt incredibly stifling. He fiddled with the bowtie around his neck and glanced anxiously at the clock. Jess had said she’d be there at quarter-till. It was almost five after the top of the hour now, and he hadn’t heard a word from her.  
  
 _It’s not like Jess to be late,_ he thought to himself. _Maybe she got caught up doing work. She said she’d been busy lately. I’m sure that’s it. It’s got to be._  
  
He paced the room, realigning geodes and crystalline samples on his shelves as he walked past them, shifting one or two specimens around with each lap of the room. After a dozen or so back-and-forths, he stopped at the replicator.  
  
“Scotch, neat.” It wasn’t like him to drink out of stress, but he could feel the doubt pressing at his thoughts, and the last thing he needed to wrestle with right then was shaky nerves.  
  
Golden shimmers coalesced into a lowball glass filled with clear amber liquid. He grabbed it and hardly stopped to smell it before downing the shot in one gulp. He winced as it burned on the way down, grateful for the momentary distraction of physical pain from his mental anguish. He placed the empty glass back in the replicator and dematerialized it.  
  
“There’s no way she stood me up,” he said out loud, hoping that hearing the words as opposed to just thinking them would make the statement more believable. “She’d never have agreed to it if she didn’t mean it.” _Right?_  
  
Walking toe to heel for something to concentrate on besides his growing doubt, Jeremy set off pacing the length of his quarters again. _This is why I need to just be more straightforward about things. If I’d been less weird about the proposal in the first place, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation._ This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to muster the resolve to spark a change in character. He’d harbored a sense of trepidation regarding commitment for as long as he could remember. For quick flings, he was charming as anyone, always ready with a quick retort. The moment he realized that he was interested in someone on more than just a passing basis, the urge to overcompensate and overthink everything kicked in at full power. He’d tried to convince himself more than once that he could treat this relationship the same as any other, but he’d overstepped his bounds in a serious relationship years before, and it cost him the love of a woman he’d very much intended to marry.  
  
 _But Jess wouldn’t bottle it up. She’d tell me if I was out of line. It’s what she does for a living._ Jeremy groaned at his own internal conflict. _Instead, I tread lightly and hide any doubts about commitment behind lame attempts at humor._ This one was a path he’d dragged himself down before since their relationship took off a few weeks prior. _She’s a strong woman. She deserves a strong partner to compliment her._  
  
He glanced at the clock again. She was over half an hour late with no word of what was causing the holdup. Resignation took hold, and he returned to the replicator for another whiskey. He downed his second shot of synthehol with as much regard as he’d shown the first one before casting the glass back into the replicator.  
  
“Fine. I’ll be decisive.” He was going to make something of the evening, even if it meant he had to do it alone. Jeremy walked out into the halls of Deck Seven and strode, mildly irritated, toward the turbolift. He stepped inside and grumbled, “Deck Eleven.”  
  
The lift whirred as it descended, the three floors between passing quickly. When the doors opened, Jeremy walked out into an empty hallway. _Everyone is probably there already. We’ve passed ‘fashionably late’ at this point. I’m just late._ The banquet hall was in the middle of the deck. On his way there, he didn’t pass a single soul. With the double doors finally in sight, he approached them, ready to get on with his evening, nearly walking straight into them as they failed to open. He frowned, backed up, and tried again. Nothing. _Sensor must be malfunctioning_ , he thought, reaching for the door panel. When the manual override button didn’t respond, he felt the irritation with the evening’s events overtaking the pleasant buzz of the synthehol.  
  
Jeremy tapped the combadge he’d tucked into the breast pocket of his suit. He almost instinctively paged Jessica, but caught himself at the last second. If she was avoiding him, then he’d at least do her the courtesy of not being a pest. “Caldwell to Commander O’Malley.”  
  
His call was answered with silence. He tried again. “Caldwell to O’Malley, do you copy?” Still nothing. _Maybe she’s busy. This is her event, after all._ He tried again. “Caldwell to Naazt.” If the door was busted, that was a textbook engineering issue. Surely, Naazt would respond. To Jeremy’s surprise, he didn’t. _One last try._ “Caldwell to Engineering.”  
  
After four attempts, Jeremy fished the combadge out of his pocket and shook it out of frustration, suddenly wishing he hadn’t downed two shots of bourbon before leaving his quarters. He took a deep breath and shoved the badge back into his pocket.  
  
 _Let’s approach this logically,_ he thought, stepping back from the door. He retraced his steps and tried the first door he came across, which led into one of the holosuites. The entrance opened without delay, and, cautiously, he stepped aside. It seemed to be working fine, which only perplexed him further. _Let’s try a different one_. Down the hall several paces was the door to another holosuite. Much like the first, the door opened as he approached.  
  
“Something’s not right,” he murmured to himself. “Computer, what is the ship’s status?”  
  
 _“All systems are functioning within normal parameters.”_  
  
He narrowed his eyes. “Computer, locate Commander O’Malley.”  
  
 _“Commander O’Malley is not on this ship.”_  
  
His brows knit together. “Computer, locate Lieutenant Jessica Barnes.”  
  
 _“Lieutenant Jessica Barnes is not on this ship.”_  
  
Something is definitely not right. “Computer, what is the status of the shipboard communication system?”  
  
 _“All systems are functioning within normal parameters.”_  
  
He froze. “No, no… Wrong answer. I didn’t ask about ‘all systems.’ I asked about our communications system.” Something was very much amiss, but without detailed engineering knowledge, Jeremy wasn’t sure he’d be able to find out what without causing even more damage. Part of him wanted to chalk the whole thing up to another bizarre EPS malfunction like they’d had a few days ago, but his gut told him otherwise. No malfunction he’d ever heard of would announce members of the crew to be somewhere they weren’t, and with no planets nearby and a massive gala going on, there was no reasonable explanation for why the ship’s second and third in command would be anywhere but onboard.  
  
Now on high alert, Jeremy headed back toward the turbolift. _I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a night for formalwear after all._


	22. Chapter 22

Raj checked the time as he waited at his desk. Ensign Kase’s estimate still had them ten hours away from the source of the _Dauntless_ ’ signal, but the gala was just beginning, and that would be the perfect time to strike. His preparations were complete, and now came the worst part: Waiting. He took the picture frame from his desk and looked back on a happier time. A much younger, much happier Raj stared back at him from the vast distance of time, his arm around his wife’s shoulder. Rebecca was smiling, her long brown hair down to her waist. Their children sat in front of them, Arjun still and polite, baby Sarah kicking and screaming. Raj’s smile faltered, and he set the frame back on the desk.  
  
Ever since his first posting, Eli Patterson had been a friend, a mentor, and a father figure to him. On the _Remington_ , Eli had taken a green young ensign under his wing. He’d kept Raj out of trouble more times than he could count and gotten him into trouble nearly as many. As they both grew older, he became family, the godfather to Raj’s firstborn son. Just a few short years later, Eli had come to him with a question that would change his life.  
  
 _“Raj, what would you do to protect the Federation?”_  
  
He’d been young, then, at least by an old man’s standards. He’d been naïve.  
  
 _“Anything, Eli. You know that.”_  
  
Just like that, the threshold had been crossed. No ceremony, no test, just a series of vague conversations. A hushed communication here, an order from ‘outside’ there. The dangerous jobs didn’t come until much later when he was already in too deep. A classified order would arrive in the dead of night, and he’d be on a shuttle by morning, gone for weeks at a time. Then the rumors started, and his reputation soured. The time came when his crewmates wouldn’t look him in the eye. If they’d known what he’d really been doing, they’d have shunned him openly.  
  
His transfer to _Enterprise_ was as much a favor to his old crew as it was to the new one, but Raj Murali remained an enigma to his fellow officers. Cold and aloof, he made few friends, but he excelled in his work. The one and only person he could trust with everything had been Eli. Then everything came crashing down. Now he found himself going toe to toe with the man who’d taught him everything, and more than just his own life was at stake.  
  
 _Alright, old friend. The cards have been dealt. It’s time to play the game._  
  
Raj stood from his chair and strode out of the ready room. The bridge was quiet, with only a handful of officers on duty. Raj nodded at the man standing at the tactical station.  
  
“Ensign Meeko, what’s our status?”  
  
The young man looked surprised. “Everything’s normal, sir. Should it not be?”  
  
 _They’ll secure their foothold first, then come for the bridge. Anyone still here becomes a risk._  
  
Raj smiled. “Just checking, Ensign, no need to worry. It’s bound to be quiet up here for a while. Why don’t you all head down and enjoy the gala?”  
  
“Sir?” Now they were all confused. Meeko straightened his posture. “Protocol would dictate that at least-”  
  
“I know the rules, Ensign. I’ll call for your replacements shortly, and I promise not to do anything exciting while you’re gone. Commander O’Malley put a lot of work into this, it’s only fair that you all get to enjoy it. Don’t make me make it an order.”  
  
“Uh, yes sir,” he stammered. The four junior officers entered the turbolift nervously, and for a moment Raj wondered if he’d miscalculated. When the door closed and the lift departed, he turned back to the viewscreen and looked out at the stars.  
  
It had been a view not unlike this one that had convinced him to join Starfleet, six decades earlier. He’d been a child, just ten years old, traveling with his parents on a chartered transport ship from their home on Proxima Colony to visit family on Earth. It was his first time off-world, and he’d been terrified. His father had to carry him all the way to their cabin, and they were at warp by the time Raj had opened his eyes. Then he looked out at the stars streaking by, and his fear gave way to wonder. When they finally arrived, Raj spent the entire week looking at pictures of starships instead of exploring the sights of Mumbai. There was a quiet, eerie beauty to open space, and looking out the viewscreen brought him a moment of calm before the storm.  
  
He heard the turbolift doors open and the pounding of hurried boots on the floor. He didn’t turn, and he kept his hands clasped in front of him. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened. He counted four in total, two men and two women if they fell within the average human range. Three of them were strangers, but he recognized the gait of the smallest. In the moment, he heard Eli’s words of wisdom.  
  
 _Keep your enemy off guard, especially when they have the upper hand. You might not be in control of the situation, but you are always in control of your actions. Act unexpectedly._  
  
“Ensign Kase, I don’t recall summoning you to the bridge. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”  
  
The woman’s slight gasp gave her away even if her footfalls hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who responded, though, but he did recognize the voice.  
  
“I believe you should be directing your questions to me, Captain.”  
  
This time, he turned. Standing in front of him, with a confident Ensign Kase beside her, was Commander O’Malley, phaser in hand. Flanking them, armed with outdated but dangerous phaser rifles, were two men, clad in uniforms reminiscent of Starfleet, but bearing an insignia he didn’t recognize. Shannon, if it was her, nodded at the man on her left.  
  
“Take us out of warp and signal the others.”  
  
The man nodded and took the helm. He entered a command, then looked back in confusion.  
  
“Commander, the console isn’t accepting any inputs. I’m locked out completely.”  
  
Shannon glared at Raj, her lip curled in a sneer.  
  
“Clever, Captain, but it’s not enough. She nodded to Kase, who keyed a command into a small PADD. Moments later, _Babel_ lurched to a halt.  
  
“It’s better if you don’t resist us, Captain,” she continued. “Your crew has been detained, your ship’s shields are down, and in minutes I’ll have complete control.”  
  
 _Play to her ego,_ Eli seemed to whisper. _Stall for time, and learn what you can._  
  
“You were clever too, Commander,” Raj replied. “But enlighten me. Where did your new friends come from? And who do you intend to make me helpless against?”  
  
“Don’t play games with me, Captain,” Shannon snapped. “I’m the one in charge here, and you’ve kept us waiting long enough.”  
  
As if on cue, a starship appeared in a flash of light, dropping out of warp in front of them. The ship was old and battered, but the frame of an Excelsior-class starship was unmistakable. Raj didn’t need to see the registry on the hull to know her name.  
  
“I see you’ve brought the _Dauntless_ ,” he said. “What’s this about? Hiding a Federation ship beyond the frontier in secret? A military tool for Eli to brandish when he needs it most? Or does he plan to sell it to the highest bidder?”  
  
The woman laughed, and another ship appeared alongside the _Dauntless_. An identical ship.  
  
“Oh Captain, Elias was right about you. You think too small. This isn’t about stealing a ship. It’s about rebuilding an Empire.”

  
  


**The adventures of the _USS Babel_ will continue...**

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for the conclusion of the two-part finale of Season One and the upcoming Season Two!


End file.
